


Merry in Australia

by Corinnathepoet



Category: Merry - Clare Mallory
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-01-27 21:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 28,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21398650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corinnathepoet/pseuds/Corinnathepoet
Summary: The girls at Tremayne's school in Dunedin welcomed a new student from Australia this year; now they are thrilled to find that a holiday in Australia is planned for them. This is an imagined version of Clare Mallory's promised sequel to Merry Marches On.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. Tremayne's to Australia

Chapter 1 – Tremayne’s to Australia  
It was the last week of school. The exciting presentation day and the full performance of the pageant had worn everyone out, but the girls in Dormitory 10, and the flat, still had the energy to enjoy a midnight feast with tuck provided by their visiting parents. In a few days everyone expected to head to various parts of the country for Christmas holidays. But this year, there was to be an unexpected departure from the usual travels.

  
“Well, it’s official,” declared Joanna Carslake, a smile on every corner of her bright face, to the occupants of Dormitory 10 as they sat on their beds waiting for the bell to go down to breakfast. “Mother and Dad have invited all of you to visit us in Australia for Christmas and the holidays!”

  
There was a moment of silence, then everyone broke into excited chatter. Hildreth Ballantyne’s voice managed to cut through the hubbub. “Have they convinced all the parents it’s possible? For starters, where will we all stay?”

  
“No problem,” said Jo, “Mother and Dad have organized the whole thing with the other parents. They told me last night but said not to mention it till today. I’ve been busting to tell you all.”

  
“How will we get there?” shivered Merry Arundel, who had never flown and wasn’t sure if she liked the idea. Hildreth, always quick to understand, made a mental note to give Jo and Pauline a bit of a warning.

  
Jo, presently unaware of Merry’s misgivings, glossed over these minor considerations easily: “Oh Dad will work all that out. Nothing to it! But just imagine how much fun we can have. And, I think Mother’s organizing tickets for us all for some special sporting event!” She looked around meaningly but no-one seemed to notice the intensity of her gaze.

  
“Imagine seeing Botany Bay!” sighed Corinna Goldsburgh. Form IV was reading about the voyage of Captain Cook around New Zealand at the moment and Corinna found the intrepid journey fascinating, as well as the poems and songs it had inspired. Both her parents were great travellers, and Corinna had the laurels of being the class poet.

  
“Well I’ve never been there!” said Jo. “It’s rather a drive from our place – and I’ve heard it’s not such a tourist attraction as Captain Cook and Joseph Banks thought it might be! But,” she added hastily, at Corinna’s crestfallen expression, “I am sure we can go there if you would really like to.”

  
“And Bondi Beach!” said sporting Hildreth. “If they can really pull it off it will be unbelievable. It’s the 12th of December already!”

  
“Won’t the parents be a little upset at everyone not being home for Christmas?” thought Merry aloud. It was to have been her first Christmas at home with Pauline’s family, now that the official adoption was going to be finalized soon. A few of the other girls with brothers and sisters looked a little worried – this term was long and they were looking forward to seeing their younger or older siblings, but this suggestion was so appealing…. But could it be possible?

  
“You see,” said Jo, her eyes blazing, “half the parents at least want to be in Australia. Can’t you guess why?” she challenged, hitting an imaginary tennis serve over her head.

  
“You don’t mean the Davis Cup?” Hildreth started to her feet. Oh this was the most wonderful thing! Australia had won back the coveted Davis Cup from the USA the previous year, and now the final – against the USA again – was to be played in Sydney, straight after Christmas!

  
“Yes, yes, yes!” Jo danced around the room in excitement. “As soon as she knew Sydney would host the final – at the White City you know, not far from us - Mother went out and bought 20 tickets – you know how much she loves tennis (after hockey, and golf, of course) and she wanted to be able to take as many friends as possible. And Dad got some more tickets for the company. So we can take everyone! Mother only told me today!” Jo’s mother, known in Tremayne’s history as “Big Jo”, had made the journey to Dunedin from Sydney only a week ago, to be present at the pageant which Merry and her friends had created, and in which daughters and grand-daughters of old girls had performed.*

  
“But why would anyone from New Zealand be interested in Australian tennis anyway?” said Karen Lane rather tactlessly. Jo looked a little hurt. She had thought everyone would be excited about her parents’ generous invitation.

  
“Oh goodness me,” said Hildreth scornfully, “just look up the records. Australasia, made up of New Zealand and Australia, played in the earliest Davis Cups and won four of them! They beat the United Kingdom twice at Wimbledon and the USA. And Tony Wilding from Christchurch won Wimbledon three times in a row! He could beat anybody! Grandfather went to school with him,” she added proudly, “he used to tell us all about him.” The others had looked dumbfounded at her wealth of knowledge on the subject.

  
“Of course we love tennis just as much as any Australian. I can’t think of any sporting event I would rather go to. But I still can’t believe it’s actually going to happen!” said Innes Beverley. “Pinch me someone because I must be asleep.” Then yelped as several hands obliged. Innes was a general favourite and seemed to have recovered completely from her nervous complaint which had been so cruelly exploited the previous year by a now expelled girl. But Holly Stafford was her special friend, despite their differences in character. Holly had stuck up for her last year, even at personal cost.**  
At dinner time, there was subdued excitement at several tables. Even Jo wasn’t sure exactly which families had taken up the invitation to travel to Sydney for the summer. The girls spoke in hushed voices, hardly able to believe it was actually going to happen.

  
“I’m pretty sure Di and Hildreth are coming with their mother; Claudia and hers, bringing Georgie; Pauline and Merry of course, with Lady Templeton; and naturally I will already be there, with mother and Dad,” said Jo. “Holly and her Dad are coming too. Innes, I think your mother has agreed to come. And Karen, yours too! I know Mother would get such a thrill out of having your mothers to stay. So that makes ten Tremayne’s girls and a few parents. But Mother said at least 20 had decided to come. I guess we will just have to wait for the big day when we travel together!” Jo gave Karen a friendly little smile, her earlier gaff forgiven. It was not so long ago that they all had found it difficult to get to know the reserved Karen.

  
“Corinna, aren’t you hoping that your father will take you?” said Merry, remembering an earlier conversation.

  
“I think he might now,” said Corinna, “He was very happy at my doing well this year.” Only little Beth Strickland looked a little out of the conversation; it was not very likely she would be joining the party in Australia. Esmé Godwin was travelling with her parents to visit grandparents in England, so would also not be able to travel with the other Bups. Jill Luscombe had been told the day before that her family was holidaying with cousins in the North Island; Jill too looked a little crestfallen that she may not be travelling to Australia with the others. However, her philosophical nature comforted her and the other two.

  
“Can you imagine being in the company of a Head Girl, Games Captain, and House Captains, of two generations? We would have to be on our best behavior all the time!”  
Merry and the others laughed - they were used to Claudia, Pauline and Diana, since as a sister or frequent house guests, they had come much in the younger students’ way this year. Conscious of the possibility of some sore feelings, the prospective travellers tried hard not to be too talkative about the special holiday in store, but it was very thrilling all the same.

  
  



	2. A Trouble Shared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo tells the exciting story of her travels to New Zealand - by flying boat!

That night, before lights out, Hildreth sought out Pauline Templeton, head girl-elect, now in her first few days of solitary splendor in the head girl’s office. Claudia, the departing head girl, had left with her parents a few days before the end of term.  
“May I speak to you about something private?” she said diffidently. Pauline stared – this was very unlike the usually forthright Hildreth. “It concerns another person.”  
“Are you sure you should discuss it then?” said Pauline. “Would they not rather it remain private?”  
“I don’t know,” said Hildreth slowly, “but I think if I don’t discuss it with someone it could lead to a real problem. It’s not really a school thing, but it does concern you in a way.”  
“Well, out with it then,” said Pauline kindly, “and if I think you should not tell me I will stop you pretty quickly.”  
“It’s about Merry,” said Hildreth, her face earnest and anxious. “She’s worried about flying to Australia. Now that she is nearly your sister…and you knew her mother…” Hildreth’s voice trailed away.  
Pauline was silent. She knew exactly why Merry would be worried. In fact, the same anxiety was lurking in the back of her own mind. There had been a plane crash. Merry had lost her mother, and Pauline a dear friend and mentor. All the English speaking world knew of the untimely death of Rosemerryn Ashley, one of the finest journalists and novelists of the post-war era.  
“I see,” said Pauline meditatively. Hildreth looked perturbed. Had she done the wrong thing?  
“I’m sorry,” said Hildreth, rising to go, “it was wrong of me.”  
“No, no, don’t go,” answered Pauline hastily, realizing the other girl’s distress. “I’m glad you told me. Does anyone else know?’  
“No, I don’t think so. But I thought perhaps Jo should know: she keeps talking about the trip with such enthusiasm. I could see Merry was worried, even though she said nothing to me or anyone else. Do you think I should tell Jo?”  
“Leave it to me,” said Pauline, ‘I think I know a way to deal with this.”  
The following day, Pauline asked all the younger girls who were likely to travel to Australia to an impromptu afternoon tea in her study. It was quite crowded, and some had to sit on the floor while others perched on the arms of the two comfy armchairs the head girl was allowed to have in her room.  
“You are probably wondering why I have asked you here,” said Pauline. “I would like to call on Jo to tell us all about her trip here last year, when she flew by herself from Sydney to Dunedin. Jo, would you be able to do that please? I thought you might all be interested to know what the journey entails.” Catching Hildreth’s eye briefly, she gave her a quick nod and then looked away.  
Jo was a little flustered at this unexpected request, but equal to any occasion.  
“Well, I didn’t fly all the way here. If you remember I flew straight to Auckland first, and then down to Christchurch where I met up with you all. So the trip I took won’t be quite the same as we are doing this time. But it was probably the most exciting thing I have ever done! Mother took me to where the flying boats land and take off….”  
“Flying boats!” said two or three voices at once.  
“Why yes,” said Jo in surprise, “didn’t you know that the air service between Australia and New Zealand is by flying boat? The service to Wellington started last year, but they have been flying into Auckland for quite a few years. I was one of the first passengers in the new Short Solent aircraft though.”  
Flying boat? There were quite a few anxious faces now.  
“How many passengers were on board, Jo?” asked a bemused Hildreth. “And how long does it take?”  
“I think it can take up to 45 passengers,” said Jo. “The flight I was on took just under seven hours, although the record is five and a half hours! It’s odd though, to leave in the early morning from Sydney and arrive in the very late afternoon here, because of the time difference. It feels like time stands still while flying.”  
“What time difference? How can the time be different?” said Innes, with a puzzled expression on her face.  
“Haven’t you studied time zones yet in geography?” asked Pauline. “Greenwich Mean Time, and all that?”  
“Oh, of course,” said Innes, “I remember now, but I didn’t realise Australia was so far away that we would cross a time zone!”  
Everyone laughed a little, but there were quite a few who shared Innes’ incredulity. Were they really travelling so far that the time would have to change?  
“Please go on, Jo,” said Pauline kindly. “Perhaps we should hold questions to the end.”  
“The flying boats are moored in Rose Bay near where we live on Sydney Harbour. You can hear them from home when they take off and land, and, holy cow, do they ever make a racket!”  
Again there was general laughter, and Pauline decided to ignore the slang.  
“I showed my passport...” sensation at this… “…even though it wasn’t needed between Australia and New Zealand apparently, and then my ticket. My luggage got put into a section at the back of the plane. It seems to take ages to get everyone on board; you walk onto a little jetty, get on a launch out to the flying boat, and then up a gang plank into the cabin. It’s quite big, rather like a ship, with huge wings over the top of the hull and enormous propeller engines! ‘Flying boat’ is really a good description.”  
There was complete quiet now as Jo told her story.  
“There are several rooms, I suppose you could call them, with groups of seats in them. When the door was shut, everyone who had come to see us depart had to get off the jetty, and they started the engines. The plane started to travel slowly across the water, a bit bumpy at first but then faster and faster until, it just rose up into the sky! It was so smooth and easy. I could see all the harbour out of the window and even our house! “It doesn’t get very high into the air. You can always see the tops of the waves, and sometimes the clouds, as we travel, but that gets a bit monotonous.”  
“Do you get to eat, or do you have to take your own food?” said Corinna. Everyone laughed; Corinna could usually be relied on to make sure there were things to eat.  
“There is a whole dining room,’ said Jo, to everyone’s surprise. “The food is actually cooked on board by a steward, upstairs in the galley, I think they call it. There are quite a few hostesses on the flight – it’s becoming quite a popular career for women. Imagine getting to travel every day! They invited us all to go upstairs for lunch, and I sat at a table with three other people. The meal took ages; there were three courses! The adults could get cocktails and things, and there are magazines, and even a mini-golf course! I had such a grand time. The captain even invited me and another girl into the cockpit for a while to see how they fly the aircraft!”  
“Anyway, after six hours we could see the coast of New Zealand, and then the mountains and lakes as we flew over – it looks so green and beautiful from the air. I could even see sheep! Then the captain made an announcement that we all had to go back to our seats, and fasten our seat belts. The flying boat got lower and lower over the water until it just touched onto the surface and raced over the water like a very fast motor boat, getting slower until it could pull up next to a pontoon! Then the engines were turned off and, that was the end,” Jo said.  
“Where did you land?” asked Holly.  
“The flying boat terminus in Auckland is at Mechanics Bay, but in Wellington I think it is at a place called Evans Bay,” Jo replied. “A friend of Mother’s met me and I spent the day in Auckland with her. She took me by car to Whenuapai airport – that is about an hour from Auckland- and I had another flight, on an ordinary plane this time, a DC3, to Christchurch. And then I met you all and Link… Miss Lincoln!” she corrected hastily, with a hazy perception that to refer to the headmistress by her nickname in front of the head girl might be pushing a boundary.  
“Thank you, Jo,” said Pauline, conscious that she often used the headmistress’s nickname herself in conversation with Merry. “Does anyone have any questions for Jo?”  
“Were you frightened at all?” asked Hildreth, carefully keeping her eyes averted from Merry.  
“Well, I had flown before when we went to the States.” (Another sensation among those to whom this was news.) “But not in a flying boat! So yes, I was scared a little bit at first,” confessed Jo, “especially since I had said goodbye to Mother for the first time… you know. But the hostess was lovely and told me all about her flights across Australia, and the person sitting next to me has flown 20 times! So talking to them helped. I loved it by the end. And when you think of all those planes flying all over the world every day now – it’s just like taxis in the air! And the flying boats are like ships in the air!”  
“Did you get wet?” asked Corinna. Everyone laughed.  
“Actually,” said Jo, “the hostess told me that, sometimes, if there are waves during take-off, spray does come over the front of the plane and can come in through the seals on the windows! So you can get wet! And it gets cold high up as well – they give you blankets and foot warmers!”  
“Thank you Jo, that’s most interesting and we all have a better idea now about what to expect. But I think it’s time you all went back to your dormitories now,” said Pauline, “and I am sure Jo would be happy to answer any more questions that you might have. And Jo,” holding her back for a moment as the others crowded out, “thank you again, you tell a great story. Why don’t you write that down as a composition for the next magazine?”  
The girls left her room, chattering, and Jo glowing from the compliment. Pauline was relieved to see Merry laughing with the rest. Hopefully, she too would come to “love it”.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * See “Merry Begins” by Clare Mallory  
** See “Merry Marches On” by Clare Mallory.


	3. A Long Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all aboard the flying boat for Australia!

Chapter 3 – The long journey  
The departures from school and, in some cases, early Christmas celebrations at the far flung homes of the girls, came and went. It seemed no time at all before the travellers were all together at Wellington flying boat terminus, in light summer dresses, with white gloves, eagerness on every face. Following Jo’s caution about getting cold, everyone had a jacket or cardigan in their hand luggage. The younger girls were surprised to see that, like all the mothers, Georgia and Claudia, who had just left school, Diana, and even Pauline, wore their hair up, and stylish little hats! But when they saw some of the other older passengers, with high heels and elegant outfits, they were proud that their seniors looked so grown up.   
Even the parents couldn’t suppress their excitement. This afternoon they would be in Sydney, and after Christmas they would be visiting the legendary sporting venue, White City, to see the most famous tennis players in the world, as Australia defended the Davis Cup!   
Some members of the party from Dunedin had already had a two long nights of travel: first on the Main Line South train from Dunedin to Christchurch, and then on to Wellington on the overnight ferry journey from Lyttleton. Others had elected to fly direct from Dunedin, and already counted themselves to be experienced air passengers. Most had been too excited to sleep and the frequent stops were disturbing. Now, the flight across the Tasman was ahead of them. Of all the girls, only Jo had ever flown that far, so there was plenty of quiet anxiety, although no-one, not even Merry, wanted to admit to her fear. But the new experience and the company of the others kept all their spirits high.  
The Short Solent aircraft named Aparima was huge and hardly moved on the water as the passengers boarded. There were light waves across the bay.  
“Is it going to be very bumpy as we take off?” said Hildreth to the hostess who had shown the girls and their parents to their cabin, divided into several pairs of two comfortable blue upholstered seats that faced two others across a table. Hildreth could always be trusted to ask the questions that others were too shy to articulate. Teachers knew that if Hildreth ‘got it’, then everyone else would too!  
“I hope so!” replied the hostess, much to the girls’ surprise. “The water needs to have a few waves so that the big craft can break free as the captain asks her to take off. Otherwise, the hull is held by smooth water as a kind of suction. If there were no waves, the captain would have to make some by first taxi-ing across the direction of our takeoff. The choppier the better, within reason,” laughed the hostess as she moved on to check that everyone had their seat belts fastened for takeoff.   
As the great flying boat taxied across the water, the girls could feel the hull smacking into the waves, and were relieved to know that this was just as it should be. The speed increased and suddenly the flying boat lifted into the air. There was a spontaneous cheer from all the girls. The novelty was so great, and the well-dressed air hostesses, wearing smart ties and military style caps, so kind and understanding. To see from the air the shape of the coastline of their beloved islands was fascinating. No-one much liked to stand up in the walkway for a while, so there was a lot of craning of necks to see out the windows as the ‘plane cleared the coastline, and swung away out over the crests and troughs of the deep blue Tasman Sea.   
The parents had been very understanding and allowed the groups of girls to sit together. Merry and Hildreth of course, Holly and Innes, Georgie and Claudia, Pauline and Di. Karen was forming a cautious friendship with Jo, already in Australia. She sat with her mother, now Grace Channing, but formerly Grace Dallas, one of Tremayne’s finest sportswomen. The spacious lounge made it easy to stroll around and chat, though, and everyone enjoyed occasionally watching the rolling sea below. The steward was cooking food for all the passengers and delicious aromas started to tempt everyone. Lunch was served: each passenger received a beautifully arranged large tray set with cutlery and several plates, full of delicious food.   
The afternoon passed gradually with some people dozing and others reading books – there were still holiday tasks that they might as well get on with before there was too much enjoyment to interfere. Teachers who knew the girls were travelling had sympathetically set reading lists of novels and tasks that related to the history and geography of Australia and New South Wales. Merry was already engrossed in Seven Little Australians, while Hildreth had chosen For the Term of his Natural Life.   
It seemed a very long time, and the temperature was cool enough for everyone to be grateful for the blankets that were distributed to each passenger. Indeed, it was over 7 hours before the captain announced over the communication system that they would be landing soon. There was a bustle to collect items that had got somehow scattered around, to ensure that books and possessions had not been misplaced, and then an increased sense of anticipation gripped everyone. Soon they would be in a foreign country, even one as well known and understood as Australia!  
“Look out of the window, Merry,” urged Pauline over her shoulder to the younger girl, as they approached the coastline of Australia. “I think that’s Botany Bay below us!”  
“Corinna was so looking forward to seeing it,” remembered Merry.  
Merry dutifully studied the landscape below her, but she had to admit that the wide shallow circular bay was not quite as stirring as the jagged expanse of Port Jackson which also came into view as the plane circled before landing on the waters of Rose Bay. And there was the Sydney Harbour Bridge! Oh what a beautiful sight! But tiny, compared with the huge expanse of brilliant deep blue water, studded with little white sails in the brisk late afternoon breeze that was flicking the surface into waves.


	4. Australia at Last!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls from Tremayne's arrive in Australia.

Chapter 4 - Australia at last  
“Do you have any idea where we are to stay, Mother?” said Pauline quietly to her mother as they stood in line waiting for their luggage to emerge from the baggage area. “Surely we can’t all be staying with the Carslakes, however hospitable they may be.” Jo and her parents had of course gone home to Sydney immediately the term ended to prepare for the arrival of their many visitors. So they would be at the airport to meet the travellers and take them all to their accommodation. This was still a mystery to most the girls. The parents had decided they could cope with that level of uncertainty and enjoy the coming surprise.   
“That’s right, dear. We had quite a time arranging somewhere that could accommodate all of us, but it so happens that quite near Big Jo’s house (Pauline smiled at her dignified mother’s adoption of her old school friend’s nickname) is a very large old house, most conveniently situated. It belongs to an elderly lady who is away for the summer and she has kindly agreed to allow us all to stay there. It is just a short walk away from Jo’s place and quite near the tennis stadium as well, so it works out perfectly.”  
“That’s a relief,” said Pauline, “I think there a few of the girls who thought we might be in tents!”  
“I don’t think it would have come to that, my dear,” laughed her mother. “Sydney has quite a few very big hotels, such as the Australia Hotel in Castlereagh Street, where we would all have been very comfortable, but this house seems to allow for a little more informality, and will be so convenient. Wait till you see the arrangements Mr Carslake has made to transport us all to the tennis stadium!” And she would say no more despite the girl’s encouragement.   
“Can you imagine all those youngsters maintaining enough decorum to suit a rather staid hotel?” laughed Di, as they collected their luggage. By this time, the younger girls were bursting with anticipation at seeing Jo in her own country, and getting out of the airport precinct, which after all did not look so very different to Wellington terminus.   
“You look excited enough to burst, yourself,” laughed the urbane Claudia. “Let’s be honest, this is probably the highlight of life so far for all of us; just enjoy it.”  
“There they are, mother!” shouted a familiar voice as the first of the New Zealand girls and their mothers walked out of the baggage collection area into the meeting hall of the airport. Mrs Carslake had to restrain Jo from running through the crowd to hug them all but she was laughing with excitement at welcoming her old friends, and these delightful young girls and prefects, to what was now her home country. She greeted her friends, Lady Margaret Templeton, quiet Mrs Somerset, tall and fair Mrs Eve Ballantyne and Mrs Grace Channing, with as much enthusiasm: “Eve, dear, I’m so glad you could come – Grace, how wonderful to have you here.” And led the mothers away to a quieter place so that they could talk over the next phase of the journey.   
Other passengers looked on with curious amusement as the party of girls gathered around Jo laughing and chattering. The attractive crowd of schoolgirls had been quite a novelty on the ‘plane trip out and many had wondered what the journey signified for the happy young people.   
“Come on everyone,” said Jo, leading the way out into the mild summer afternoon air. “We are going to have such an exciting day! First it’s Christmas! Then we have to watch the start of the big yacht race on the harbour!”   
At a few blank looks, she laughed. “The Sydney to Hobart yacht race, sillies! It’s a new race that was started at the end of the war. It starts on Boxing Day each year. It takes them days to sail down the coastline, but only about an hour to get out of the Harbour. They sail right past our place – oh it’s just thrilling to watch. There are 14 yachts this year, not as many as last year. Hundreds of people go to watch the start now, it’s great fun. My favourite is the “Margaret Rintoul”,” finished Jo with a shy smile at Pauline, whose mother’s name was Margaret.  
“Do you know, the paper this morning said there are only 100 tickets left for the tennis? Think of that – nearly 12000 people will be in the stadium to watch it with us!” said the elder Joanna Carslake, to Karen’s mother, Grace. “I believe they have added some temporary stands to cope with the crowds. Of course, the cricket attracts at least as many people in Melbourne – which is why you won’t see much of my husband and son. They will be setting off for Melbourne directly after the tennis to be at the test match. Lindwall and Keith Miller are both playing, you know, they couldn’t miss a chance to see them bowling, and Hassett and Harvey batting.” Grace Channing nodded with understanding; she too had been a keen sportswoman in her school days and kept in touch with what was happening on the busy international sport scene.   
“I wonder when we will get to see Corinna,” mused Merry, as the party loaded into several taxis for the journey to the Rose Bay area where they were to stay. “She told me in her letter that they would be leaving Auckland before Christmas Day, so perhaps they are here already.” Merry stifled a yawn. “Oh I am tired!’  
“Don’t worry,” said Pauline, “you have forgotten that New Zealand is two hours ahead of Sydney in time! It’s nearly bed time back home. I’m sure we will adjust to the time difference quickly.”  
The schoolgirls all nodded in agreement; it had been a very long exciting day. But there were still excitements to come.   
Outside the airport, Mrs Carslake ushered them to the carpark. What looked like a fleet of taxis was waiting.   
“Come on everyone,” she called, “Four to a taxi, please!” Gradually the luggage of each person, and the girls and mothers themselves, were sorted out into the cars. As the cars drew out of the area, everyone, mothers included, looked around with great interest. Even the advertising billboards were fascinating.   
“I must see if I can buy a newspaper, tomorrow,” thought curious Merry. Her journalist mother had always encouraged her to keep informed about the goings on of politics and the world around her. And it was a great way to find out about a new city. The cars slowly worked through the traffic, and it seemed to Merry that they were climbing a hill. Very occasionally there was a glimpse of the harbour. The streets gradually became narrower, and tall trees on either side and in gardens obscured any distant view. At last, the cars drew to a halt, a high fence obscuring any sight of the house that they were to stay in.


	5. Home on the Harbour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise is in store for the Tremayne's girls when they find out where they are staying in Sydney.

Chapter 5 - Home on the harbour  
“Out we get, everyone,” said Mrs Carslake cheerfully, alighting from her vehicle. “Why Hildreth, I believe you have been asleep!” And indeed, Hildreth’s tumbled hair and sleepy eyes gave testimony to her having caught a few minutes of rest on the journey.   
Mrs Carslake produced a set of keys, and proceeded to unlock a gate in the fence. The girls and drivers together removed the luggage from the cars, and the men cheerfully carried the heavier cases down the path to the rear of the imposing house that was revealed.   
“Thank you drivers!” said Mrs Carslake, as the last of the suitcases was delivered. She opened the door of the house and the girls and their mothers all walked inside, unsure of what they were to find.   
A large hallway led to a staircase that stretched both up and down from the entrance level, and at the end of the hall was another corridor leading away to the left, and an imposing double door. Opening it, Mrs Carslake led the way into a room the size of a small ballroom – for indeed, that was exactly what it had been in the earlier years of the house’s existence as a fine dwelling for a Supreme Court judge. It was now arranged as a modern lounge room, with handsome couches and easy chairs. Inviting cushions and piles of magazines made it look very cosy and home-like.   
With gasps of delight, everyone rushed to the row of high French doors that led from the room out onto a substantial balcony. For there, spread out before them, was Sydney Harbour! Oh how beautiful in the afternoon light! Small white yachts scudding to and fro, the stately Manly ferry coursing its way across the water, the sparkle of the water mesmerizing. The Sydney Harbour Bridge, its lights beginning to show, was framed to the left and directly across the harbour was a great expanse of trees stretching all the way up a hillside. For a moment, no-one could speak. It was all so unexpectedly perfect.   
“What is that place, Mrs Carslake?” asked Georgia, pointing to the hillside.   
“Why that is Taronga Park, our famous zoo!” The girls all turned to her in wide-eyed wonder. “We can take a boat across one day and visit the zoo.”  
The gardens of the house stretched all the way to the water’s edge, where there was a large boatshed, and a jetty extending out into the water. Huge hydrangeas fringed the sides of the garden, and nodded their massive pink and blue heads in the sea breeze. A walkway led straight down from steps below the house, through the garden to a circular stone feature with a fountain in the middle, and then on to the end of the lawn, which was confined by a stone wall from the water.   
“But this is extraordinary!” said Lady Templeton. “Jo, you are a magician to find such a beautiful place for us to stay.” Her friend beamed at the obvious approval of all.   
“Come back to the staircase and I will take you down to the dining room, and kitchen area,” said Mrs Carslake. “The house is set high on a hillside, so some of the rooms are downstairs. Wait till you see what is upstairs, girls! But that can wait,” she said firmly, as Hildreth and Holly showed an inclination to rush upstairs straight away. “Let’s get you all unpacked and I believe there may be dinner ready for you all. The bedrooms are this way.”   
The corridor leading away from the double door proved to lead to a second wing of the house, where comfortable bedrooms and bathrooms were found. A second, smaller staircase also led down to the lower part of the house from this section. Once all the bedrooms had been sorted out, it was time to go downstairs to the dining room and kitchen. Here, on a vast table, were set out plates of cold meats and salad, a welcome sight for the hungry travelers.   
“Take your plates out onto the terrace if you like, girls,” suggested Mrs Carslake. There were comfortable outdoor chairs, and stone walls aplenty to sit on, thoughtfully provided with gay colourful cushions. “Just watch for mosquitoes and if you are getting bitten, then come on back indoors. When you have finished, perhaps you would like to investigate the upper storey with me?”  
There was no slowness in consuming the delicious meal. Afterwards, the well trained girls stacked their plates and delivered them to the kitchen where smiling mothers refused all offers of help to wash and dry the dishes.  
Everyone met at the foot of the stairs and Mrs Carslake led the way to the top of the flight. She opened a door, and to everyone’s surprise, they were in a square turret on top of the roof! From there, they could see in every direction, east out to the Heads, where the Vaucluse light house loom was already swinging along the treacherous coastline, west to the Bridge, and beyond to the ranges of the Blue Mountains, north to the attractive shoreline of Port Jackson, and south to the hills beyond. Sydney’s buildings were beautiful, lit with every colour, and the sparkling navigation lights of yachts, launches, and ferries moving across the harbour.   
Only exhaustion finally drew everyone down the stairs to discover and claim their rooms. Jo and her mother bid them good night, and returned to their house in the same street, and the travellers subsided into welcome sleep.


	6. Red Leaf Pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls visit one of Sydney's harbour pools, and meet a boy who will become a sporting legend. Claudia and Diana get philosophical.

Chapter 6 - Red Leaf Pool  
The next day was Christmas Eve. Everyone was still a little tired, and so resting on the comfortable terraces and lounges, while admiring the ever changing craft on the harbour, was as much as most people wanted to do. Jo had walked over from her nearby house and spent the day with them, telling them all about her days in Sydney since returning a week ago from Dunedin.  
But by late afternoon, Hildreth and Diana, those sporting enthusiasts, were ready for some action  
“I think we should go for a swim,” said Diana. “Come on all you lazy things, get your gear and we can walk to a beach not far away. Jo’s mother told me about it – there is a fenced pool that is safe to swim in.”  
“Safe?” said Merry. “What is there to be protected from?”  
“Sharks,” said Jo laconically. “We don’t want any of you going home minus any important limbs!”  
Everyone laughed, but a little nervously. The walk down to Red Leaf Pool was hilly but pleasant, and the broad shady footpaths made it easy. The Pool, an enormous semicircular wooden structure, with the piers of the jetty enclosed with narrow vertical wooden slats, was already busy with laughing and splashing swimmers, but the girls found a place where they could float or swim comfortably.   
“What about a race?” said Jo eagerly. The girls remembered that when Jo had first come to Tremayne’s, not even a year ago, it was with the reputation as a champion swimmer. Diana and Claudia, the sporting champions, with 6 years in advance of Jo’s age, lazily agreed to a race, but found they had to stretch themselves to keep up with her.   
Quite a few people stood to watch as the three girls, trying hard now, battled for the ascendency as the splashing of their kicking increased in efforts to be the winner. But it was Jo who triumphed over the bigger girls, having been in training since returning to Australia. Di and Claudia ruefully congratulated her, and mentally vowed that they would give her a run for her money next time.  
“Great swim, Jo” commented a blonde haired boy, who was himself doing laps of the pool, but had stopped to watch the race.   
“Why hello Murray!” said Jo, “it’s great to see you. Are you staying in Sydney for the school holidays?” Turning to her friends, Jo carried out the introductions. “Everyone, this is Murray Rose. Murray goes to Cranbrook School where my brother goes, just nearby. We used to have school functions with Cranbrook when I went to school here. Murray, this is Diana, Claudia, Georgia, Pauline, Merry, Hildreth, Holly, Innes, Karen…”  
She stopped as the boy laughed – “I’m never going to remember all those names,” he said. “But I’m pleased to meet you,” he said courteously. “And yes, Jo, we are staying here for the summer but I’m going to England in the winter. For training, you know. Anyway, ‘bye everyone, I’ll be seeing you again I expect.” With that he waded out of the water, picked up his towel, and walked off up the beach.   
“What did he mean, training?” asked Merry curiously. “He was very polite, wasn’t he?”  
“Well what do you expect?” said Jo, picking up on Merry’s last comment first. “Most boys are! Murray is already a champion swimmer. He hopes to swim at the Olympic Games in Melbourne in four years’ time. Everyone has great hopes of Murray. He’ll be seventeen by then.”  
The girls respectfully watched the brown skinned, blond haired boy walk up the beach to the road.   
“I suppose there are quite a few opportunities to compete in big competitions in Australia,” said, Diana, thoughtfully to Claudia as they walked back to the house, a little behind the younger girls who were regaling Pauline with stories of their swimming experiences back home. “That’s one thing we lack at Tremayne’s. Dunedin is so far away, even from Christchurch and Auckland, that we don’t get much chance to test ourselves against other people in sport, or anything really.”  
“Oh I’m not sure that we are lacking in any important sense,” said Claudia, “after all, Dunedin is the fourth largest city in New Zealand. And New Zealanders have a great history of achievement in so many circles. Why look at people like Merry’s mother, a novelist and writer, famous all over the world. That tennis player, Tony Wilding, whom Hildreth was talking about, is another example. Then there are people like Mr. Edmund Hillary, off with the British reconnaissance of Mount Everest this year! There is every hope that he might be one of those to reach the summit first. That would really put New Zealand on the map!”  
“It’s rather a lot to live up to,” said Di, “when you put it like that. Do you think perhaps we might ever do something that is a credit to New Zealand? It’s one thing to be good at sports and schoolwork, but does it really make a difference?”  
“I suppose,” said Claudia, “it’s the example to all these young ones that matters. If we had been slack going through school, and not cared about doing well, or trying our best, then what could we expect of the rest of the school who comes after us? And if we hadn’t cared what we did at school, why would we care about doing anything useful or important when we left? Why would anyone?”  
“Perhaps,” said Di thoughtfully, “although I am sure that some people take a bit longer to develop that way….not everyone has success at school, no matter how they try. It has been pretty easy for us – which takes me back to where we started! Do we ever have much competition?”  
Such philosophical musings were not being shared by the younger members of the party as they walked back up the hill to the house, carrying their wet, sandy towels and feeling the late afternoon sun uncomfortably warm on their shoulders. Tiredness still affected most of them, but by the time they had washed and changed, and enjoyed another delicious dinner, thoughts turned to the excitement of tomorrow. Christmas Day!


	7. An Australian Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A happy Christmas Day is spent in Sydney.

Chapter 7 - Australian Christmas  
The morning dawned clear and warm, and everyone rose early. Shouts of “Happy Christmas” echoed through the big house, and the girls were thrilled to find that somehow, miraculously, a decorated Christmas tree had appeared in the ball room, or lounge, as it was now. Beneath it were presents for everyone! Several of the girls had managed to secretly bring presents for each other and their parents as well, so the pile of presents grew as these were added beneath the tree.   
Mrs Carslake and Jo came early to wish them all a happy Christmas, and suggest the day’s activity.   
“There is a lovely church service at 7. 15 this evening at St Andrew’s Cathedral in town if you would all like to come?” said Mrs Carslake. “It is similar to the King’s College Cambridge service – with carols and hymns, and nine lessons.”  
“That sounds beautiful,” said Lady Templeton, “I am sure the girls would enjoy it and I certainly would!”  
“But first”, said Mrs Carslake, “is Christmas breakfast, then presents, then Christmas lunch at our house. We can also listen in on the wireless to the selection of players for the Davis Cup, and then the King’s Christmas message.”  
“And tomorrow, the tennis starts, and the Sydney-Hobart yacht race. It’s going to be a busy time for us all. I hope you have all rested enough? No-one needs an afternoon sleep?” she laughed. All the girls hastily denied this; no-one wanted to miss out on a moment of this exciting time.   
“Girls, how about you go to the kitchen and help bring out the breakfast?” suggested Lady Templeton. The girls moved with alacrity at this suggestion, and soon plates of sliced ham, slivers of rockmelon, and jugs of juice, as well as plentiful plates of toast, and trays of butter and jam, appeared on the table.   
“I thought you might like a really festive breakfast to start the day,” said Mrs Carslake. The big tables each had red table cloths with green napkins, and on each table was a small jar containing Christmas roses. “These are from our garden. I bet you can’t guess who cut and arranged them,” she finished, with a mischievous smile at her big daughter.   
“I confess!” laughed Jo ruefully. “I love these hellebores, they are my favourite flower in the garden.”  
Merry looked at Jo curiously; admission to a love of flowers was a side to their new friend that she had not suspected. All sorts of bulbs were avidly cultivated at Tremayne’s by the boarding students; perhaps Jo could exercise her interest at school as well as home!  
After breakfast was finished, and everyone was washed and dressed, they gathered around the Christmas tree. Holly’s father had arrived and Jo’s father and brother came as well for the occasion. Corinna and her father were staying at an hotel nearby and arrived by taxi in time for the present opening. Corinna was greeted with rapture out of all proportion to the week that had elapsed since they were all together last at school. Somehow, the travel had made the time seem longer for them all.   
“We thought it would be fun to have some presents to open,” said Mrs Carslake, “although most of you had an early Christmas at home. Jo, would you like to hand them out to everyone?”  
“Of course,” said Jo, “I’d love to be Father Christmas!”   
She distributed presents that all looked the same size and in similar wrapping paper to each of the younger girls. As they opened them there was general laughter when they realized that everyone had received a floppy white cricket hat, with their initials embroidered in Sennen blue on one brim.   
“Put them on everyone!” cried Hildreth, and the hats were crammed down on black, red, brown and blonde heads all at the same time.   
“We can’t have your noses getting sunburned this week!” said Mrs Carslake, as everyone laughed at the spectacle of all the similar hats. “The White City courts are uncovered and the sun can get quite fierce at this time of the year. The matches are during the hottest part of the day too.”  
“My gifts will come in handy then,” said Lady Templeton with a smile. Every girl had received a smaller package, which, when opened, revealed – “Sunglasses!” shrieked Holly with delight. None of the girls had ever thought of wearing such an item of clothing but the strength of the Australian sunshine was new to these southerners.   
Now it was time for the more personal presents to be opened, and the gifts made at school and carefully packaged for transport in luggage were opened and exclaimed over; items of needlework such as bookmarks, handkerchiefs and doilies predominating.   
Books were other popular presents. Claudia exclaimed over her new Ruth Park book, “The Witch’s Thorn”. “The Harp in the South” had made its way to New Zealand in recent years, and the works of this New Zealand born writer were always eagerly anticipated.   
“Not one for the younger girls, though,” her mother murmured to her, as Claudia skimmed the opening pages.  
Mr Goldburgh seemed very pleased with Paul Brickhill’s “The Great Escape”, and Holly’s father compared his gift, “The Wooden Horse”, by Eric Williams.   
“Swap, when you have read yours?” he asked genially. Both were interested in stories that were starting to emerge about heroism and triumph over adversity during the recently ended war.   
“By Jove, well done Jo,” said Mr Carslake, as he opened his book present from her, a copy of John Arlott’s “Days at the Cricket”. Jo beamed with pride at her successful choice.   
It was a happy morning for everyone and a cup of tea with mince pies and Christmas cake at 11 am was welcomed, before anyone realized how much time had passed. Mr Carslake turned on the wireless to tune into the news broadcast. The draw for the Davis Cup team was taking place at that very moment in the Hotel Australia.   
There was a hush as those most interested in the tennis clustered around the wireless receiver.   
“In news just to hand,” came the announcer’s voice, at the end of the other news items, “the surprise selection of Mervyn Rose in the singles matches against the Americans caused gasps of amazement in the crowd that watched the Davis Cup draw at the Hotel Australia, Sydney, today. Rose, a Victorian left hander, will meet Victor Seixas (USA) in the first match of the challenge round at White City tomorrow.”  
“I say,” declared Mr Carslake, “that is a surprise. Most people tipped Ken McGregor for that spot, after making the Wimbledon final this year. But the talk around the practice sessions was that young Rose was making quite an impression. Well, at 1pm tomorrow he gets his chance! Poor chaps, fancy having to wait until today for the announcement, when the matches start tomorrow!”  
“I’m glad I finally know how to pronounce Seixas now! It’s been puzzling me for weeks. I wasn’t sure if it was Six-as, or Sigh-sas, but the announcer said Say-shus, with emphasis on Say,” laughed Mr Stafford, Holly’s father. “That’s good enough for me then.”  
“When you are all ready,” said Mrs Carslake, “Jo will walk with you up the road to our house, where we will have lunch. Perhaps you would like to come now with me?” and she turned to the group of mothers and fathers who had enjoyed so much receiving the carefully made items laboriously prepared during the school term by their loving daughters.   
Jo’s house was another grand home on the shores of the harbour. With its own beach and boatshed, it was clear that Jo and her brother had enjoyed a very happy childhood by the water. The mild summer weather enabled full enjoyment of the grand Christmas feast that they shared: turkey with roast vegetables, plum pudding, and all the trimmings.   
At three o’clock, Mr Carslake turned on the wireless. “The broadcast of the King’s Christmas message will be on soon.” The familiar English voice crackled out over the air a few minutes later. The King began by apologizing that he and the Queen would not be travelling to visit the Commonwealth, but instead would be represented by the Princess Elizabeth and her husband, the Duke of Edinburgh. The King assured listeners that he was recovering from his recent surgery.  
“His Majesty sounds very tired and unwell,” ventured Georgia, when the broadcast ended. The adults exchanged sombre glances. 

“It would be rather fun if the Princess visits Dunedin,” said Hildreth. “I wonder if there would be any way we would get to see her and the Duke?”

“I fear it may not be as Princess that Elizabeth visits Australia and New Zealand,” said Lady Templeton quietly to Mrs Carslake. Her surgeon husband had given her some details of the complex surgery the King had undergone; it was usually only attempted as a last resort. 

Ignorant of this sad likelihood, it was a weary but happy and replete party of girls which returned to their house that evening. The church service at St Andrew’s Cathedral had brought a chance to sing beloved carols, receive the Christmas message, and hear the fine choir in action. There was really nothing like it – the great organ ringing out through the chapel and hundreds of people raising their voices in song. Holly and the others with soprano voices joined in all the descants, well coached as they had been at school in these joyful ornaments to the carols. Not a few heads turned quietly as Holly’s clear and tuneful voice soared above the singing of the general congregation, in total harmony with the choir singers at the front of the cathedral. 

The minister asked them to think of the families of the 119 men who had died in the recent coal mining disaster in the United States, and for all those suffering through illness, war and famine, and for the servicemen and women in Korea and Malaya, adding the consciousness of serious issues to the otherwise holiday atmosphere. Merry fought back tears; her mother’s plane had gone down in Malaya, and this was Merry’s first Christmas without her. A kindly hand sought hers - Lady Templeton, beside her, struggled with her own emotions at the thought of the loss of her young and vibrant friend. 

“What time will we set out for the tennis matches start tomorrow, Mother?” said Jo, as she and her mother sat outdoors watching the lights of evening ferries tracking across the harbour to Manly.   
“I think we should all be ready by 10am,” replied her mother. “I’ve asked Lady Templeton to make sure everyone is ready by then.”  
“Oh will we miss seeing the start of the yacht race?” said Jo in some distress. She had not realized that enjoyment of both events might be impossible.  
“We’ll see,” said her mother quietly. Jo had to be content with that ambiguous comment as she was firmly hustled off to bed.


	8. The Yacht Race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their way to the tennis, the girls get to watch the start of the Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race.

Chapter 8 – The Yacht Race  
“We each have our own ideas, but we have come to learn that differences of opinion are not the same as quarrels. I wonder if we realise just how precious this spirit of friendliness and kindness is. We are living in an age which is often hard and cruel, and if there is anything that we can offer to the world today perhaps it is example of tolerance and understanding."

Merry copied these lines from the newspaper report of the King’s Christmas message into a leather bound note book that had been her Christmas present from Pauline. Her first task this morning had been to read the newspaper that had been thoughtfully ordered to be delivered each morning by Mrs Carslake. There were tragedy and comedy in its pages; motor deaths, the mine explosion in the USA, world events, but some funny entries as well. An intriguing crossword puzzle also attracted her. She was finding the paper was a great help in passing the time before they would leave for the tennis. Some of the others were restlessly wandering around the garden, in anticipation of their departure. 

“Listen to this Rinna; there is a section on the front page called Column 8.” Merry was sure this story would tickle Corinna’s keen sense of humour. Corinna’s father had finally succumbed to her plea that she be allowed to stay with the other girls, a request gladly acceded to by the hospitable Mrs Carslake.   
“A small country school closed last year, but this December the Education Department wrote to the school asking for the teacher’s Christmas holiday address,’ read Merry aloud. “The article says: “One would have thought," says the ex-secretary of the ex-Parents and Citizens' Association, Mr. W. E. M. Abbott, "that after the fight we put up, the department would at least remember that it has closed the school.” Merry was a brilliant sight reader, and she affected an outraged voice for words of the aggrieved Mr. Abbott.  
“Oh that is sad and funny,” responded Corinna. “Imagine the children, only a few of them left in the area, not able to go to school any more, having to have lessons at home, or go to boarding school.”

“That’s not such a bad fate, is it girls?” laughed Mrs Channing, walking in on the conversation. Like the other mothers, she was dressed for a day in the sun, in a light cotton dress, with a shady hat swinging in her hand. “I think it is time we were all getting ready to leave. Does everyone have her hat, and sunglasses? Bring your light jackets too in case the breeze turns cool later.”

The excited girls assembled in the big lounge, previously the ball room, of the mansion, expecting to depart through the main door through which they had first entered. When Mrs Carslake and Jo arrived, however, they did not lead the way out of that door, but down the stairs to the garden level, and out the rear entrance.

“Why are we going towards the water?” asked Hildreth, mystified. 

“Look,” said Jo simply, in reply.

Moored at the jetty below the house was a sleek motor boat, almost like a small ferry in size. 

“Is that for us?”

“Yes, the White City is right next to Rushcutters Bay, near Daddy’s yacht club. So we are going round to the Bay in the launch, and getting off at a jetty in the yacht club, then walking to the stadium. It will be heaps more fun and quicker than going by motor. And there is something else….” but Jo suppressed her excitement heroically. Her mother had had a quiet word with her before she left, and Jo didn’t want to spoil the next surprise for anyone. 

Everyone filed down through the lush garden, down steps and levels, to the harbour’s edge and out onto the wooden jetty. It was an easy matter to step over onto the combing of the launch, and down into the commodious rear cabin space. There were seats all around the sides and down the centre of the cabin. On the bow of the boat were two more rows of seats and some of the girls rushed up to occupy these, each white hat firmly planted on each head. The mothers all carried small wicker hampers, and from them they extracted packets of sandwiches which were very welcome. There were also containers filled with water, and thermoses of tea for the thirsty. 

“I think it’s a good idea if we eat before we get to the White City for the start of the tennis, “said Mrs Carslake. “Not only will you all be too excited to eat, but it will be difficult to carry all this food inside the arena! If you each take an orange with you that should keep you going for most of the afternoon, until afternoon tea.”

The launch was capably reversed from its mooring by the captain and crew of the hired launch, and then surged forward west up the harbour. There were already hundreds of small craft lining the harbour, while several larger yachts circled offshore, and it was not easy to pick a way through the many motor boats. Instead of continuing all the way to the yacht club, the captain stopped the launch near another large boat, which threw a line to him. With the buffers hanging over the side of both launches, the craft was safely moored for the moment. 

“Why are we stopping here, Mr Carslake?” asked Hildreth, forgetting the other great sporting event of the day in her excitement about the tennis. 

“It’s nearly time for the start of the Sydney to Hobart yacht race,” Mr Carslake explained. “You don’t think we would let you miss that, did you?” Everyone’s eyes turned to the harbour; sure enough, there were great sails on several yachts across the bay, with very businesslike crews hard at work. 

“You can see the yachts circling; they can’t cross the start line until the starter’s gun goes off, but they want to be as close as they can to the line at that moment so they get the advantage.”

“What happens if they cross too early?”

“The skipper has to turn the yacht and cross the line again – and would end up at the rear of the field.”

“But they are all different sizes,” said Karen uncertainly. “That doesn’t seem fair. Won’t the bigger ones go faster?”

“Clever girl, Karen,” said Mrs Carslake, smiling at the daughter of her friend Grace. “This is a handicap race based on size. There are four sloops, four cutters, three schooners, two yawls and a ketch in this year’s race.”  
She laughed at the bewildered expressions on most faces. “The sloops and schooners have only one mast, and the cutters, yawls and ketch have two. The differences are mainly how close the masts are to the bow and stern of the boat… the front and back.”  
“They are all different lengths and weights as well, with different sail size. The first yacht to reach Hobart can win line honours, but the real winner of the race is judged by what’s called a correction factor based on all the other differences. Simply, the lower the correction factor, the better! Katwinchar has the lowest correction factor, so if it sailed for the same number of hours as all the other yachts, it would win on handicap. By the way, did you know that the Mr Mossop, owner of the Katwinchar, the smallest yacht, sailed the yacht all the way from England on his way to live in Tasmania?”  
“Is there a New Zealand yacht in the race?” asked the staunchly partisan Diana.

“There was to be an entry, Rangi, but on the way here she was wrecked on rocks at Norfolk Island. Her hull was holed and the crew had to strip her down. They burned what was left of her,” said Mr Carslake grimly. “Watch, girls, there is the five minute warning gun.” Among all the many sounds on the harbour, the crack of a pistol had sounded.

Smoke drifted from a boat moored in the harbour and all eyes turned towards Clark Island beyond which the starter’s boat was moored. These two points formed the start line. The fourteen yachts were circling, and the girls could hear shouts as instructions were given by the skippers. It was all rather thrilling even if you knew nothing about sailing.

Then the yachts all turned to face the same direction, their sails filled with wind, and they all surged forward, just as a second shot rang out. The race was on! The biggest yachts went straight to the front with the red sails of the gallant little Katwinchar bringing up the rear. 

“Did some of the yachts go over the line before the gun?” asked Hildreth uncertainly. “I was sure two of the big ones looked a little ahead of the line when I saw the smoke.”

“You would make a good referee, Hildreth,” laughed Mr Carslake. “Look, you can see them turning to come over the line again.”

“Oh no, it’s Margaret Rintoul,” moaned Jo. The big yawl was turning, having to avoid the other boats as it did so, with shouts ringing across the water from the anxious skippers. 

And sure enough, the big two masted yawl and the sloop Lass O’Luss had crossed the line early, and on the starter’s signal had to circle around to pass over it again. Then it was all sails up for a dash down the harbour. Many of the smaller motor boats now turned on their engines to follow the yachts. Some people were even paddling canoes! Everyone wanted to see which of the competitors would make it past the Heads first and out into the treacherous sea, which had a stiff southerly gale blowing. 

“Time for us to head to Rushcutters Bay,” said Mr Carslake. “We have an appointment for a tennis match! After yesterday’s defeat of the Australian cricket team by the West Indies, let’s hope for victory today!”


	9. The First Match - Wednesday 26th December 1951

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Davis Cup defence is under way at White City, and the party from Tremayne's is there to cheer on the Australian players.

Chapter 9. The First Match (Wednesday 26 December, 1951)

The first singles match between Mervyn Rose and Vic Seixas was due to start at 1pm. Crowds extended out of all entrances as people queued for the remaining tickets. Luckily the Tremayne party’s tickets had been secured weeks before, so they were able to enter quite quickly and find their seats. 

The huge open air rectangular stadium was filled to capacity for the match. The green grass looked smooth and lush on the court, the umpires and the ball boys, in their monogrammed green jumpers and blue shorts, were already out on the courtside as the girls and parents took their seats. They had a good view of the court, slightly elevated and on the western side of the court. Although in bright sunshine at midday, they would be shaded by mid-afternoon. 

It wasn’t long before the opening ceremony commenced, the players and dignitaries came onto the ground, the national anthems were sung, and then the players took up their canvas chairs on the either side of the umpire to prepare for the game. Both had been wearing long sleeved woollen jumpers but they removed these now and made last minute adjustments to the strings of their racquets, which were made of the lightest wood. The two players seemed tense and nervous as they walked out onto the court.   
“Goodness, how terrifying for Rose,” said Georgia to Claudia quietly. “He is only 21 – just three years older than us.”  
“And with the hopes of the nation on his shoulders. Rather more than just the hopes of one’s school!”  
The crowd groaned when, early in the first few games, the young Australian, Rose, served several double faults and was foot faulted frequently.   
“Rose needs to stand further back from the baseline,” murmured Grace Channing to Lady Templeton. “Look at Seixas, he serves from well behind the baseline. I don’t think he will get many foot faults. I hope the girls take note.”   
In the first set, games went with service until Seixas led 4-3 on his own service. Then with the American leading on Rose's service, the crowd let out a great sigh as the Australian went for a big hit which missed, and Seixas had gained an important lead by two games.   
“Foot fault!” came a call from the stands, not far from where the girls were sitting, as Seixas started to serve in his next service game.   
“Who was that?” asked Hildreth. “Surely only the umpires can call?

The next minute, the official, Mr Pettigrew, made an announcement. "I am worrying about the person in the stand who is calling 'foot-fault.' Please leave that to the judge. It will be appreciated by the players and the public."

“Goodness,” said Mrs Carslake, “I have never heard of such a thing before at a major tournament. I am glad the umpire took action so quickly!”  
Seixas took the first set comfortably. The players changed ends and had a moment sitting on their chairs near the umpire, to take a welcome drink. There was a hubbub of conversation around the court as the excited crowd talked over the first set.  
The second set saw Seixas break Rose’s serve early, and gain an early two game lead. Rose won his service game to pull up to within one game.   
“Oh no,” groaned Hildreth, when Rose hit a vital ball into the net in the next game.   
But a few minutes later she cheered with the rest of the crowd when Rose volleyed beautifully in the ninth game to win, and held Seixas to a one game lead. The experienced Seixas, however, had little difficulty in taking the next game and the set.   
“Seixas will go in for the kill now in the third set,” predicted Diana to Claudia.  
“Don’t discount Rose just yet,” replied Claudia, “he’s a fighter!”  
It seemed Diana was correct when Seixas stormed through Rose's first service, then won his own service game, to gain a two game lead.  
“Double fault!” agonised Merry, when Rose lost the last point of the next game in that manner. She quite lost her head and called out to the young player. “Come on Mr. Rose!” in her high clear voice. All the Tremayne’s girls laughed, and those in the crowd who heard laughed along with them.   
The young tennis player looked up into the stands as if acknowledging her encouragement. It seemed to spur him to greater effort, for he went on to take two points and the game and then broke through Seixas' service to equalise the games.   
“Oh, he’s fallen!” Rose took a tumble onto the court while trying to return a difficult shot. But he bounced up again and took his own service, to take the lead for the first time. Now the lead see-sawed between the two.  
“Great volleys!” cheered Diana and Claudia, as Rose took the offensive on the net, and gained the lead by a game.   
The set slowly stretched out to 12 games, when Rose took the next game on his own service, and then broke through on Seixas' service.   
“Can he keep going?” groaned Merry to Hildreth.   
“I don’t think so,” replied Hildreth sadly, “Rose looks very tired now. Imagine if it went to another set!”   
And sure enough, the American went on to take the next three games to take the set and match 6-3, 6-4, 9-7.


	10. The Second Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Australia needs to win the next match in their defence of the Davis Cup! And Merry and Corinna tackle the crossword puzzle in the Sydney Morning Herald.

Chapter 10. The Second Match  
The second match of the day was eagerly anticipated, and everyone felt much revived after an hour’s break, where cups of tea, scones, sandwiches and fruit could be consumed in the tea rooms, and legs could be stretched. Frank Sedgman was already a champion player and it was hoped he could even up the score. However, he had never had a major victory at White City.   
The match started evenly with long rallies, unlike the previous competition. After four service games going evenly to each server, the next game was a battle.  
“Deuce!” called the umpire for the fifth time as neither player could gain two points advantage.  
“This game will go on forever if they keep this up,” said Corinna, groaning with the crowd as Schroeder saved yet another point back to deuce.  
Eight times the deuce was called, before Sedgman finally broke through. He won the next game to love, with an ace on the last serve. Sedgman then broke Schroeder’s service again; now it was 5-2 to Sedgman.  
“Sedgman only needs this next game to win the set.” Merry stated the obvious; everyone was on the edge of her seat with excitement. It was not to be though. Schroeder broke back, and then won eight points in a row to hold his service.  
“Oh no – double fault for Sedgman! I can’t bear this,” said Hildreth, “they are both brilliant players! Either of them could win.”  
With Schroeder serving, Sedgman miraculously forced him into three errors, giving him three set points.   
“Great shot, did you see that!” gasped Diana, as Sedgman hit his return straight down the sideline to claim the set. “Can he go on and win in straight sets?”  
The crowd clapped politely as Schroeder opened the second set with an ace, then four winners to claim the game. But Sedgman fought back straight away, following his own serves to the net and forcing errors by Schroeder, and won the next game.   
Volleys, aces, double faults, smashes, deuce – every possible form of tennis drama was acted out on the court for the adoring crowd. After twenty minutes Sedgman secured the second set. Was victory only one set away?  
Within minutes the score in the third set was 1-3 in Sedgman’s favour! Surely Sedgman could finish off the set and win in straight sets? Two double faults by Schroeder! But Schroeder fought back. Not for nothing had he been Wimbledon champion two years earlier.   
Sedgman’s serve was broken! Now Schroeder was really fighting.   
“Those passing shots!” Now it was 3-all! Schroeder served an ace to win his own service game. The next game went to deuce five times before Schroeder was able to seal the game and go on to win the set. That game, with its advantage points seesawing between the players, had taken 26 minutes, and not only were the players feeling the heat on court.   
Neither player conceded a game in the fourth set, until the score was even at four games all. Sedgman saved his serve in the next game with a mighty smash.   
“Can he possibly break Schroeder in the last game?” Like everyone else, Hildreth and Diana, the tennis loving sisters, were breathless with excitement at the masterful display they had watched by both players.   
Errors by Sedgman gave Schroeder the eighth game, and Sedgman smashed to keep in front by a game. If Sedgman could break Schroeder’s service now, he would win the match!  
“Surely it won’t go to five sets?” speculated Claudia. “I think Sedgman looks to have energy in reserve.”  
“30-40!” called the umpire. Only one more point. The crowd cheered itself hoarse to encourage the Melbourne born player.   
“Ace!” Schroeder was fighting. Now it was deuce. Two points to go!  
A lob, by Sedgman, and it was advantage to him.   
“What a shot!” Schroeder’s passing shot left Sedgman flat footed. Deuce again!  
The third and fourth match points were saved by Schroeder, flinging himself across the court to save what seemed certain winners.   
But when Schroeder followed his own serve to the net, with Sedgman holding match point yet again, Sedgman hit a strong passing shot down the sideline. The match was over. Sedgman wins! Nearly two hours of brilliant tennis.  
The crowd cheered and cheered again as the two players shook hands, and then saluted the umpire. Sedgman and Schroeder both acknowledged the cheers, before walking to the sidelines where Sedgman was warmly congratulated by his team members.   
“Did you all watch the American serving in the first match?” asked Mrs Channing at dinner that night. “He hardly foot faulted at all, and then only during his jump, by standing back from the baseline to serve.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” said Jo. “Foot faults are my worst fault!”

“I thought Rose’s volley game was really excellent, although his ground strokes were not very strong,” commented Mrs Carslake. “It will be interesting to watch his career! And of course Sedgman and the Americans. I foresee a lively time at Wimbledon this year.”**

“Provided they don’t all decide to turn professional,” cautioned Mrs Channing. Only amateur players were permitted to compete in all the world’s major tournaments, but for many players the absence from their paid employment and the cost of travel meant the lure of the professional world was very appealing.***

Back at the house, the girls were full of stories and observations of the crowd from their exciting day. Merry decided to continue working on the crossword she had started in the morning.**** The clues were a mixture of straightforward and cryptic. Corinna, who loved words as much as Merry, sat down with her, and the red and black heads bent low over the newspaper, each with pencil in hand. 

“That one is easy,” said Corinna, “28 down, ‘A smoker drops this’; three letters, it must be ‘ash’.”

“What about 26 across?” said Merry. “The clue is: “Simon’s acquaintance gives me pain.”

“Surely it would have to be Simple Simon? Who was his acquaintance?”

“Pieman!” said Merry triumphantly. “It has the right number of letters. But how does it fit the clue?”

“Oh I see,” said Corinna. “If you change ‘pain’ to ‘pian’ and ‘me’ to ‘em’, then put it in the middle, you get p-i-e-m-a-n. Hmm, that’s good enough for me. When does the solution get printed?”

“Not till Saturday,” groaned Merry. “Well, let’s keep going. What about this one: “Part of a play to tender before he gets 150, and an ancient Greek saint. Four letters, two, then six.”

“Part of a play – could that be scene? No, too many letters.”

“What about Act, or Acts? Write that down, Rinna. Now, what is 150? That sounds like something to do with cricket. Or, wait, could it be Roman numerals? What is Roman for 150?”

“CL,” volunteered Hildreth from the chair where she was engrossed in the life of Ralph Rashleigh. 

“Thanks,” and Corinna wrote down, ACTS, CL. “Before he gets 150. Does that mean CL goes before ‘he’?” She wrote, ACTS CL HE. 

“Try it the other way round. “Before – he.” So ‘he’ goes before ‘CL’.” She changed it to ACTS HE CL. “He-cl”, she said, pronouncing it ‘heckle’.

“Does anyone know the names of any ancient Greek saints?” asked Corinna. “Claudia, didn’t you study Greek?” Corinna was in far less awe of the former Head Girl now that she no longer held that position, and punishments such as lines were no longer likely. 

Claudia looked up abstractedly from her engrossing novel. “Greek saints didn’t feature prominently in the curriculum,” she said. “What letters do you have?” Corinna showed her their progress so far. 

“Thecla,” suggested Claudia. 

“Thank you!” the crossworders said. “But I still don’t understand the part of the clue: ‘to tender’. Does that mean, to make it tender? What’s another word for tender?” surmised Merry. 

“Painful? Gentle?”

“Soft!” declared Merry. “Part of a play is ‘acts’, then tender is ‘soft’ using the letter ‘s’, then ‘he’ and ‘cl’…what have we got Rinna?”

“Actsofthecla,” recited Corinna. “Acts of Thecla! It fits.”

“Goodness, that was a tough one,” said Merry. “I think we had better rest our brains till tomorrow.”

*Thanks to the anonymous writer of the account of the first Davis Cup rubber, published in the Burnie “Advocate” on 27 December, 1951, page 12. 

** Rose’s career was indeed very interesting. He won 8 grand slams, including the French and Australian open championships, the latter against Ken Rosewall, and several doubles championships including Wimbledon and the US Open. He would also go on to coach such greats as Billie Jean King and Margaret Smith Court. 

*** Professional players were able to compete in tournaments after 1968, when the Open era of tennis was created, with entry for both amateurs and professionals in all tournaments. Tennis could become a profession.

**** Trove, the repository of the National Library of Australia, has digitised copies of all newspapers published in Australia. The crossword that Merry and Corinna are working on was published in the Sydney Morning Herald on the morning of 26th December, 1951, and results were published on the following Saturday.


	11. Tennis Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another tennis match, and Australia's chances are looking good! A trip to Sydney Harbour gives a great view from the Pylon Lookout.

Chapter 11 – Tennis Days (Thursday 27 December 1951)  
The girls were very optimistic, and so was the rest of the crowd, on the second day of the tournament. Now that Frank Sedgman had prevailed, and it was one rubber to each nation, there were today’s doubles match, and then Friday’s matches: Sedgman against Seixas, and Rose against Schroeder. Surely Australia would win least two of those matches to retain the Davis Cup!   
Ken McGregor would have his chance today, in the doubles, with the tireless Frank Sedgman, who was playing on every day of the tournament, as was Vic Seixas.   
All the girls enjoyed playing doubles matches, and were eager to see how these champions approached the task.   
“Claudia and I are thinking we would like to continue playing doubles together now that we have left school, but not sure if it will be possible with study and so on,” said Georgia, as she and Claudia sat with their mothers and hostess.   
“Have you thought about tournament play?” said Mrs Carslake with interest. “We have just had the NSW Championships played here in November, for example. All the big names play, but local amateurs as well. All the chaps in this competition took part.”  
“Imagine playing mixed doubles against Sedgman!” laughed Claudia.   
“Or with him,” suggested Mrs Carslake mildly. “The Manly Seaside Tournament is tremendously popular with young players, and there are mixed competitions. But it usually runs at exactly this time of year, until New Year’s Eve. I understand it is starting a little later this year and many of these players will take part. There is also a junior competition.”  
“Might we go, please?” asked Hildreth cautiously. So much generosity had been extended already to the party from Tremaynes.   
“As a matter of fact I had thought we might go over on the ferry one day. Would you enjoy that?”  
A chorus of eager voices confirmed the popularity of this idea.   
The players were on the court, and everyone quietened attentively as McGregor prepared to serve the first ball.  
Ace! What a beginning - McGregor’s serve caused a sensation as it went straight down the centre line past Schroeder. From then on the Australians seemed to cruise through the first set, winning the first easily by four clear games.   
“Schroeder looks quite shocked at the level of play,” remarked Mrs Carslake to Claudia, beside whom she happened to be sitting. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he and Trabert don’t pull out all stops in this second set.”  
The Americans pushed the Australians in the second set, realizing that they had to play up if they were going to have any chance of beating this perfectly synchronized pair. But the Australians were too strong. The score at the end of the second set was 9-7.  
“I’ve been surprised to see Sedgman foot fault twice today,” remarked Diana, as the players changed ends at the end of the set.   
“He gave the linesman a ferocious scowl at the call! But when you rush to the net after your serve as he does, it happens,” laughed Claudia. “I wouldn’t relish that job. Do you think women will ever become lines umpires in men’s games?”  
The final set also went to the Australians, and the match was all over in less than an hour. A special presentation then took place. Frank Sedgman received a trophy as Sportsman of the Year for 1951.   
The possibility of an early finish to the afternoon had been anticipated by the organisers, and they had scheduled an exhibition match between promising young players. The first team comprised American junior champion, the 18 year old Hamilton Richardson, and Australian Davis Cup squad member, 21 year old Ian Ayre. The second pair were the Australian junior doubles champions, both 17 years old, Lewis Hoad and Ken Rosewall.  
There was eager anticipation among the crowd to see this young pair of “Tennis Twins” in action, since quite a lot of words had already been devoted in newspapers to their spectacular rise as young players.  
“Do you know,” said Mrs Carslake, “young Hoad won an under-16 singles match at the Manly tournament when he was only 12 years old. There was a very funny photograph of him in the paper – he was about a foot shorter than his opponent!” Today, however, the youngsters were not at their best, and the older players triumphed.   
It was still only 4 pm, and Mrs Carslake had a suggestion. “Why don’t we take a tram to the Harbour Bridge and have a close up look? Let’s catch the Watson’s Bay return tram at Rushcutters Bay, change at the second last stop onto the Miller’s Point tram, and go on to where we can climb the pylon to the lookout.”  
“Oh yes,” everyone exclaimed, and before long, they had reached near the district known as the Rocks. This district was one of the oldest in Sydney; by now many of the oldest buildings had been demolished, during the bridge construction period, but the tram passed many which showed the age of the area.   
“This is where Ruth Park’s book “The Harp in the South” is set,” said Claudia curiously as the tram rattled down towards the bridge. “Do you know, there was even at outbreak of plague here early in the century.”  
“Mother knew a Miss Park,” said Merry unexpectedly. “This lady worked on the paper in Auckland with Mother, and wrote a children’s column. Mother would sometimes invite her to our flat for dinner. I wonder if it is the same person?”  
Standing at the base of the huge stone pylon, on the road-way, it was impossible to imagine the vastness of it. After climbing many steel stairs, gaining an ever increasing perspective over the harbour, the girls reached the first lookout level. “Look at these beautiful stained glass windows showing bridge workers,” marvelled Corinna, as they entered the exhibition room. No one could have expected that showrooms and cafes were constructed within the walls of the pylon.   
Just fancy,” said Hildreth, reading a plaque about a large table which used to be housed in this room before the war. “The Eagle Table is reputed to have cost 400 guineas, and to have been built for one of the English nobility, during the reign of George II. I wonder what an ‘eagle table’ looked like?”  
“One type had a marble table top supported by a huge gold eagle,” replied Lady Templeton. “There is a similar table in the British Museum. But I am not sure if this was the same.”  
The accompanying mothers read with interest the displays about the “Mothers' Nook” which used to be part of the lookout. Photographs of well-known mothers of Australia had adorned the walls to give further inspiration to those hoping to write letters home. “I wonder which mothers were featured?” mused Mrs Carslake. “And where those photographs are now, and the bureau made especially for the exhibit?”  
“Why did that exhibit get removed?” wondered Lady Templeton.  
“It was the war,” replied Mrs Carslake. “There were observers stationed in the pylons, and gun emplacements. Not that they helped much. The observers in the towers didn’t recognise Japanese reconnaissance planes and the guns were not fired when the mini-submarines attacked the harbour. That was a bad night,” she recalled pensively. Lives had been lost when war had come to Sydney Harbour.   
The new “All Australian Exhibition” was full of interest for the girls. They wandered through, commenting occasionally on the unusual landscapes and occupations shown. Then they climbed to the top level, where there were no fewer than sixteen telescopes on the walls of the pylon, making it possible to survey the thousands of acres that the city covered. Everyone was able to find a telescope to view the magnificent late afternoon scene. And it was astonishing to see the famous two white cats, Bridget and Pylon, which lived on the bridge, and would walk along the narrow struts of the bridge with perfect composure!  
“Would you like to walk across the bridge, girls?” suggested Claudia as they climbed down the two hundred steel steps. “Any energy left?” Everyone was keen. After all, they had been sitting down most of the afternoon watching two matches of tennis.   
“I think Diana, Georgie, Pauline and I should be able to bring everyone home safely on the trams,” said Claudia to Mrs Carslake. “Would that be alright?”  
“I suppose so, dear. Perhaps we can meet you at the Rose Bay tram stop and walk home from there. It is only about half a mile. Unless you would like to take the ferry from Milson’s Point?”  
The girls set off for their walk across the bridge. In the late afternoon there were many buses and other vehicles crossing not far away from them, so the noise was immense, but they were protected by the strong steel mesh from any anxiety about incursion into the walkway by vehicles. Looking to the east, they could see the many bays and headlands stretching away towards the Heads, Point Piper where their house was, and the deep blue of the harbour, studded with myriad craft. The incongruous towers of the Fort Macquarie Tram Depot hid most of the Botanic Gardens from view, but some of the high trees could be seen towering in the distance, as well as the higher towers of Government House.   
The traffic noise made conversation difficult, and the girls walked in pairs across the huge bridge, stopping at times to gaze upwards through the geometric maze of steel girders and to marvel at the achievement of the massive construction.   
“Can anyone see Luna Park?” said Hildreth. “I was looking forward to that. I’ve seen a picture of the great big face painted on the entrance.”  
“I don’t think it’s possible to see it from this side of the bridge,” replied Jo. “It’s over in Lavender Bay on the other side. Perhaps we might get there one day, but I don’t think Mother would be very keen.” Jo knew that Luna Park had a reputation for rowdy behaviour.   
The warm afternoon was made comfortable by the fresh breeze that blew up the Harbour from the south east. The girls gradually grew quiet as they walked over the bridge, and were happy to have a drink of lemonade at a café before catching the bus back to the tram stop. It was an early night for them all that evening; tomorrow would be an exciting day.


	12. The Final Day of the Davis Cup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Davis Cup comes to a close.

Chapter 12 - The Final Day (Friday 28 December 1951)  
“Listen everyone, said Merry next morning, as she opened the newspaper to the report on the doubles match of the previous day.   
“No Squawks About Defeat –Shields*,” she read aloud, putting up her hand for quiet as everyone laughed at the idiosyncratic headline with its slang expression.   
Merry read on: “Shields said he had no squawks about to-day's defeat. ‘It is no disgrace to get licked by such a pair as Sedgman and McGregor,’ he said.”   
“Stop laughing, Corinna, I can’t read if you are making so much noise.” For Corinna’s sense of words was greatly tickled by the use of ‘squawks’ and ‘licked’ in a newspaper article.   
Merry started again, trying to put on an American accent: "I thought they were invincible to-day, I do not remember ever seeing a better doubles pair. They played almost as good as the day they beat Trabert and Patty in the final of the American national doubles championship. Every time our players hit the ball down the centre for what appeared to be a winner one of your boys returned it for an outright winner. Schroeder’s best shots were answered by better ones.”  
“Almost as good!” laughed Claudia, former editor of the school magazine. “I would never let that through.”  
“Now comes the bit about the crowd,” said Merry, “that’s us!”  
She read: “Both Shields and Hopman had nothing but praise for the umpiring and the behaviour of the crowd. Shields said he had never seen better than the Australian audiences at the present Cup series. "I have played in many countries, and I have never seen any audiences compared with Australians," he said.”  
“Nice to be appreciated,” laughed Hildreth. “I wonder what a bad audience at tennis would be like? Surely people wouldn’t be rude to the players or umpires?”  
“People can be quite heated at times,” said Claudia. “I’ve seen it sometimes at tournaments when the local favourite is not doing well.”  
“You mean, getting ‘licked’,” laughed Corinna. She loved the American slang expressions, and knew the former head girl had a good sense of humour. A cushion was thrown her way by the erstwhile pillar of the school.   
“What is the latest on the yacht race, Merry?” asked Jo. Everyone knew that the yachts had struck strong southerly winds and had had to put out to sea for safety.   
“There isn’t anything in the paper about it,” said Merry. “We probably have to listen to the reports on the radio news. Doesn’t it take about four and a half days to get to Hobart? So perhaps one of the yachts might arrive tomorrow night.”  
“I hope it’s Margaret Rintoul,” said Jo.   
“Rinna, do you want to try another crossword clue?” said Merry. “The solution comes out tomorrow and we still have some missing!”  
“Alright,” said Corinna, “serve one up.”  
“One down. Ruthless newspaper story by Dickens in a depression. Oh, wait, that’s too easy. Hard times.” Merry’s knowledge of English literature was impressive; Pauline and Claudia exchanged amused glances at the youngster’s prompt response to the clue. Merry continued, unnoticing.  
“Five down. Broken tumbler provided revolutionary transport for doomed aristocrats.”  
“Broken… does that mean to rearrange the letters? Wasn’t there a word for a cart in which the rich people were taken to the guillotine?” said Corinna.  
“Oh,” shuddered Merry, “how awful.”  
“Try tumbrel,” suggested someone.   
“Oh, yes, thank you, that fits. Now, how about, 25 across, ‘Royal beverage returned’”  
“’Returned’ means to turn it backwards. ‘l-a-y-o-r’.”  
“I don’t think so,” laughed Merry. “What’s another word for ‘royal’?”  
“Regal? Ah ha, lager!” said Corinna triumphantly. Merry filled in yet another space on their neglected crossword.  
“Come along girls, time to get ready!’ called Mrs Channing. “Last day of the Davis Cup today! Even though Australia is up 2-1 there is still a chance the Americans might win both singles events. After all, Sedgman has played every match so far and must be getting tired.”  
“We had better cheer them along again, don’t you think Merry?” said Jo mischievously.   
The girls crowded out of the house down to the jetty, hats, bags, sunglasses in hand. The weather was quite warm and humid, so no-one felt the need for cardigans even out on the water. Arriving at the stadium the crowds were enormous for this last day of the Davis Cup. There was huge confidence that Australia would win, but sporting crowds know the unexpected can always happen.   
The first match was the singles between Ted Schroeder and Mervyn Rose. The first set was very straight forward, and was won by Schroeder without his losing a service game.   
“Shall we?” said Jo, and during the change of ends, as Mervyn Rose walked to the serving line, Jo and Merry cupped their hands and called out, “Come on, Mr Rose!” Many of the crowd were cheering similar encouragements to their favourite, but the high girlish voices managed to provoke a smile and nod of acknowledgement from the young player.  
Again, their cheers seemed to lift his spirits and efforts. Neither player would concede a game; gradually the scores mounted as the warm afternoon wore on. Then the crowd began to murmur with surprise. Mr Sproule, the referee had left his chair!  
“What is going on?” said Claudia in astonishment to Diana and the others. “A referee never leaves the chair mid match!”  
The same question was being asked all around the court. Mr Sproule approached Jack Kramer, the coach of the American player, at his court-side seat, and spoke to him for a few minutes.   
“What do you think he is saying?” asked Hildreth of her sister, Diana.   
“I’m not sure, but I was watching the coach and at one point I thought I saw him making some gestures to Schroeder,” said Diana very quietly. It was very improper for a coach to give instructions to a player during a match. Surely there was no chance of this during an international tournament?  
Mr Sproule then walked over the US team manager and spoke to him as well before returning to his seat. The agitated crowd took some time to quieten; they couldn’t believe what they had just witnessed and everyone had an opinion to express.*   
The set continued on and still there was no service break, until finally, to almost everyone’s disappointment, Schroeder took the 24th game of the set to break Rose’s serve and win the set. Rose wasn’t giving up without a fight, and took the last set to 5 games all, before Schroeder was able to break his serve and take the match. The crowd cheered both players heartily; surely here was a champion of the future in Rose. Merry and Jo clapped their favourite heartily.   
Now the tournament was even! Each nation had two matches, and the last match between Frank Sedgman and the US champion Vic Seixas would see them fight it out for the Davis Cup.  
Merry had a great sense of occasion, worthy of her journalist mother. “I feel like I am part of history being made,” she said jubilantly to Mrs Carslake, as they took tea in the pavilion behind the courts. “Thank you so much for making this possible for us all. I’ll never forget it, no matter who wins!”  
It was to be Australia’s victory, despite the gallant Seixas taking the third set. Sedgman held match point four times during the last set, and Seixas tried to fight through to gain that set and force the match to five sets. But Sedgman was unbeatable.  
“I’ve seen a lot of tennis,” remarked Mrs Channing after the match, “and Sedgman has to rank as one of the greatest players ever, and certainly the best playing at the moment. You have seen something very special in sport, girls, perhaps the best in the world.”  
The presentation of the huge silver Davis Cup trophy was carried out by the Prime Minister, Mr Menzies. There was a slight awkwardness when he lifted the curved cup off its base first, leaving the base behind, and had to be shown how to lift the trophy from its base.** But eventually the weighty trophy was held by the Australian team and press photographers crowded around for the perfect photograph. The lighthearted atmosphere and general goodwill was infectious, and no-one wanted the event to end.   
Although the match ended at 4.18pm, it was well after 5pm by the time the presentations were ended and the crowd beginning to disperse. Since this was the peak traffic time on the roads and harbour, there was a general melee of people trying to catch buses, trains, and ferries throughout the busy city.   
“Girls, we are not going to go straight home,” said Mrs Carslake. “Come with me.”  
Intrigued, the girls followed her to the pavilion outside the main courts area, but still within the confines of the White City stadium. “Everyone, just pop into the bathrooms, comb your hair and straighten yourselves up,” she suggested quietly to the girls, “and then meet me back here.”   
They all emerged a few minutes later, creases smoothed out of their fresh cotton frocks, hands washed, and faces in some cases, and unruly hair settled back into freshly fixed decorous plaits and, for those who had short hair, general tidiness. Cloth hats were stowed away in handbags, and those who had white gloves wore them.  
What a treat was in store; the reception for important guests after the ceremony was in full swing. And Mr and Mrs Carslake, Lady Templeton from New Zealand, and their guests, were on the invitation list!  
The young guests were almost overwhelmed by the honour; shaking hands with the important tennis officials, and politicians, was new to most of them, although Pauline was not out of practice in helping to greet important guests of her parents at home. The girls moved among the throng of guests, delighted to be part of such an occasion, but hardly knowing what to do.   
“Why don’t you each get a plate of food and sit over around one or two of those tables in the corner?” suggested Mrs Carslake quietly to Jo, sensing the anxiety of some of the girls.   
A hearty afternoon tea gradually restored everyone’s spirits, and they were able to feel quite composed at the exciting moment when the tennis players entered the pavilion and everyone stood to clap. The players themselves were in many cases very young, and they too seemed a little overwhelmed by all the attention, gravitating gradually to quieter corners of the big room.  
“Thanks for your cheers,” said a quiet voice behind Hildreth and Merry, and they looked around in surprise to see Mervyn Rose standing near their chairs. Merry blushed but Hildreth was equal to any occasion.   
“We wanted you to win,” said Hildreth, “you put up such a great fight today.”  
“Thanks,” said the young man again. “Are you going to the Manly tournament this weekend? It’s always a great few days.”  
“I think we are,” said Hildreth, “but our friends make those arrangements, the Carslakes.”  
“Oh well, Joanna will be there I think, so I will probably see you again,” said young Rose, much to Merry and Hildreth’s surprise. But before they could ask what he meant, he was hailed by some other people and moved off with a smile.   
Merry and Hildreth gazed at each other in astonishment. “What on earth did he mean, saying “Joanna will be there”?” said Merry. “He must know her.”  
There was no time to accost Jo with this question though. Lady Templeton was threading her way through the crowd, with an attractive woman following her. This woman was slim and tall, with her wavy hair in a chignon on top of her head, and particularly beautiful features.   
“Merry, Mrs Niland has asked me to introduce her to you,” said Lady Templeton kindly. “I believe you may remember her as Miss Ruth Park?”  
Merry gasped, remembering the cheerful friend who would sometimes visit her and her mother in their Auckland flat, whose children’s column she had so enjoyed when learning to read. Here was that same person, a little older, but smiling and friendly. The older girls stared in surprise, before quickly adjusting their expressions to more decorous interest.   
“Oh,” said Merry, “I do remember you, Miss Park … Mrs Niland! How, how do you do?” she stammered, holding out her hand shyly to the other woman.   
The hand was warmly held in a strong grasp. “Merry, my dear,” said Mrs Niland, “I am so pleased to see you. It has been a very long time since I left New Zealand but I often wondered about you and how you were growing up.” There was much said in her face that was left unsaid in words; both knew that she had been a great friend of Merry’s mother in their young journalist days in Auckland.   
“I know you are very busy while in Sydney, but perhaps I might be able to spend some time with you one day before you leave? Perhaps we could go to the Art Gallery. Would you like that?” said Mrs Niland kindly. Merry smiled her assent, and then proudly introduced Mrs Niland to the other girls. Within moments, Claudia, for once looking a little out of her depth, was deep in conversation with her about the famous author’s latest novel.   
Arrangements were made for Merry’s outing with Mrs Niland the very next day, in which Pauline was a welcome second guest, and it was a joyous party, thrilled with Australia’s Davis Cup win and the excitement of the party, that returned to Rose Bay that evening.  
*The front page of the Grafton Daily Examiner reported this incident in its edition of December 29, 1951. The article referred to the action of the coach as “ticktacking”.  
** There is a Youtube video of a newsreel showing this moment. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_hUTQRgh2UI


	13. Poem for Streeton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry and Pauline visit the NSW Art Gallery, and a poem and painting affect their lives.

Chapter 13 – Poem for Streeton  
Saturday 29 December  
Merry dressed carefully on Saturday morning. To be meeting her mother’s friend at the Art Gallery was provoking mixed feelings, not only for her, but for several in the party from Tremayne’s. Lady Templeton took Merry aside after breakfast for a quiet chat before the taxi to take her and Pauline to the Gallery was due to arrive.   
“Merry, dear,” began Lady Templeton slowly, “I hope you are looking forward to your morning with Mrs Niland today.”  
“I am,” said Merry, “but I do feel a bit worried about talking about Mother with her. She may want to and I am not sure I feel able to do that, without getting…you know… sad.”  
“If you don’t want to talk about your mother, Merry, then I am sure Mrs Niland will understand that. Would you like Pauline to talk to her first, and suggest that you just have an interesting time looking at the paintings?”   
“No,” said Merry slowly, “I think I feel happy to talk with her myself. She was Mother’s friend after all. I am sure I can trust that Mother was friends with kind people. But I am glad Pauline will be with me,” she said hastily, in case it be thought she was not grateful for the thoughtful arrangements that had been made. Lady Templeton sat back, impressed with Merry’s quiet composure.  
“I hope you have a lovely morning, my dear,” she said quietly. “Make sure you see the paintings by Streeton if you can. Arthur Streeton is one of my favourite artists: he captures light on landscapes like no other artist I know.”  
“I will,” said Merry, and her adoptive mother-to-be gave her a warm hug, before leading her to the front of the house to wait with Pauline for the taxi.  
Pauline had volunteered to accompany Merry when the visit was proposed. Her art studies included impressionist art and she knew there was a fine collection of the work of the Australian impressionists in the collection. But, more importantly, both Pauline and her mother knew that this meeting might be an emotional one for Merry. As a journalist in Auckland at the same time as Merry’s mother, it was inevitable that Rosemerryn Ashley and Ruth Park would have been in close contact, both before and after Merry’s birth.  
Merry and Pauline were both very excited when they reached the Gallery steps, not that many minutes later. The great columns of warm ochre-coloured stone were very imposing, and the sparkling water of the Harbour could be glimpsed through the trees. Mrs Niland met them punctually as planned, and a happy hour was spent strolling together through the halls of the Gallery, exclaiming over the many huge paintings hung close together.   
The trio stood for a long time before the paintings of the Heidelberg school artists, Roberts, Streeton and McCubbin.   
“Still glides the stream and shall forever glide,” read Merry, of the inscription on a painting which particularly took her attention.   
“Wordsworth, sonnet to the River Duddon,” said Mrs Niland. She continued, quietly, to speak, and Pauline and Merry realized she was reciting the whole sonnet.  
I thought of Thee, my partner and my guide,   
As being pass’d away. - Vain sympathies!  
For, backward, Duddon! as I cast my eyes,   
I see what was, and is, and will abide;   
Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide;   
The Form remains, the Function never dies;  
While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise,  
We Men, who in our morn of youth defied  
The elements, must vanish; - be it so!  
Enough, if something from our hands have power  
To live, and act, and serve the future hour;   
And if, as towards the silent tomb we go,  
Through love, through hope, and faith’s transcendent dower,  
We feel that we are greater than we know. 

“That’s beautiful,” said Pauline quietly. “Do you like to memorize poetry?”  
“Not as a general rule. I memorized that one for a memorial service during the war. I recited it at the request of a dear friend,” replied Mrs Niland.   
“That must have been a very sad occasion,” responded Pauline.   
“Yes, it was,” said Mrs Niland. She seemed to hesitate a moment, then spoke again. “It was your father’s memorial service, Merry. Your mother asked me to recite it on her behalf.”  
Neither Pauline nor Merry said anything. Both faces reflected some inner turmoil. On Pauline’s part, it was consternation that her young adopted sister might be upset by this revelation. Pauline herself knew nothing of Merry’s father, who had died in the early days of the war when Merry was only a baby, and Pauline was still in the junior school. Pauline remembered only that Rosemerryn’s marriage had taken her away from Tremayne’s, where she was working as a junior staff member, to Auckland.   
Merry’s feelings were complex. It was true that she, too, knew little of her father. Her mother had not often spoken of him, and the photograph that had stood on the bookshelf in her mother’s room was similar to those of hundreds of young soldiers setting out to war, self-conscious in their new uniforms. The happy wedding photo displayed in the dining room was also of a young man in uniform, gazing adoringly at his laughing young wife. Merry wondered what had happened to those photographs and other memorials when, on the confirmation of the death of Rosemerryn, Miss Barbara Kendall, her mother’s aunt, and Merry’s great-aunt, had whisked Merry away from Auckland to Dunedin. She wanted to know more about him.  
“Did you know my father, Mrs Niland?” said Merry hesitatingly.   
“Oh Merry, dear, not very well I am afraid,” said Mrs Niland, cautious and a little concerned that she had brought up a sensitive subject. “I had left New Zealand by then to work in Sydney, and only went back very occasionally to see my parents and my friends from the paper, including your mother. I just happened to be in Auckland when… well, when the news came about your father.”  
“What happened to him?” said Merry, expressionlessly. Merry had been so little when her father had died, not quite three, and had not liked to ask her mother about the manner of his passing as she got older. She knew her mother had been very sad sometimes.   
“He was killed in Greece, during the defence of Thermopylae, just before the Commonwealth troops were ordered to retreat to Crete. His battalion was very highly decorated - the 28th Battalion.”  
“But that is ….” Pauline stopped herself from finishing her sentence. “Merry it is time we were thinking about getting a taxi back to Circular Quay. We are all going over to Manly on the ferry to the tennis tournament there,” she explained. “It has been such a pleasure Mrs Niland, thank you so much.”  
“Perhaps we might be able to meet again before we go back to New Zealand?” ventured Merry shyly.  
Mrs Niland promised to contact Lady Templeton again to arrange another meeting, and they said their goodbyes, before taking the short taxi ride to busy Circular Quay. Had they looked back, they would have seen Mrs Niland walk back inside the gallery, to find again the great room where the Streeton hung, and to sit before it contemplatively for some time, wondering what impact her words may have had.   
“Pauline, what were you going to say about the 28th Battalion?” asked Merry quietly as the taxi drove away. She was deep in thought about the events of the morning, but something in Pauline’s voice had sparked interest that would not go away.   
“Oh, Father told me a little about that battalion and its soldiers,” said Pauline, slowly. “There was a ceremony in Ruatoria, way up on the North Island, to award the Victoria Cross posthumously to a member of that battalion, and Father was present at that ceremony.”  
This seemed to satisfy Merry’s curiosity and the girls sat in silence, each with their own thoughts, until they reached the Quay and the laughing group that awaited them there. Pauline, in particular, felt an almost overwhelming need to talk to her mother. But that talk would have to be postponed, for there were too many people about and too much to think about over the next few hours, to make private conversation possible.


	14. Manly Seaside Tournament - Saturday 29 December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are surprises in store when the party arrives at Manly for the Seaside Tennis Tournament.

The ferry trip to Manly was very exciting. Jo, sitting with Karen, was quiet, but then Karen was never talkative, so they sat in companionable silence. They seemed to be appreciating the beautiful scenery together in great harmony. 

“It didn’t look so far from the shore, but out here on the Harbour it almost feels like one is at sea!” said Hildreth, so high were the waves, and the water looked very deep and dark blue. Small yachts with white sails raced to and fro across the water, and other ferries and craft made their way through the flotilla with seeming ease. 

Everyone was enjoying the sights from the big ferry, and when Mrs Carslake pointed out their house at Rose Bay they felt justly fortunate to be staying in such a perfect location. It took quite a long time before the ferry arrived at Manly jetty, and then there was a short bus ride to the large public lawn where the tennis courts and stands were laid out. Opposite them were hotels and large houses on one side, and the beach on the other! And now more surprises were in store. Jo briefly disappeared, to return dressed in her tennis gear, looking less buoyant than usual. 

“Jo, whatever are you doing?” asked Holly, voicing the general surprise. 

“I’ve been entered in the Junior Girls’ Singles for ages,” replied Jo, “but now I wish I wasn’t!”

This caused a minor sensation among the girls, but on reflection it made sense that their friend, such an accomplished player of many sports, would be competing in her home town, and not just for her school. And indeed, there were so many competitors getting ready, and such strong and tall young women, that it was easy to understand why Jo would be a little nervous. The Junior Girls’ Singles was for competitors under 16, and Jo was just 13. 

“You haven’t anything to prove, Jo,” said Claudia bracingly. “If this is the first time you have competed in this tournament just put it down to experience, but do the best you can of course! You are lucky; I wish we were playing”, she said enviously, gesturing towards her doubles partner, Georgie. 

“Why don’t you two enter the doubles as a late entry?” said Mrs Carslake, coming up behind them. “I just had a word with the officials and one team has had to pull out due to illness, leaving them a team short. It would be such a pity if another team couldn’t play because of uneven numbers.”

“How can we?” said the practical Claudia. “We have no gear or racquets with us.”

“Come with me, girls,” said Mrs Carslake, and she led Georgie and Claudia over to the official tent while the other girls stood in amazement at this turn of events. 

Pauline and Diana, not a little envious of the older girls, pulled themselves together, and they and Pauline’s mother and Mrs Channing firmly marshalled the remaining girls into the stands to watch the opening matches. The junior matches were being played after lunch, on the many courts that had been marked out on the huge expanse of lawn that comprised the Esplanade. Boys and girls were being organized into their appropriate courts and umpires were busy with their schedules. Each match was best of three sets, and many were decided in two sets owing to stronger opponents.   
When Jo and her opponent walked out onto the court to toss for ends with the umpire, the Tremayne girls put up a cheer. The stands were not so packed for the junior events as for the senior, but for Jo, having a crowd of girls to watch her was no different from a match at school, so she was not intimidated. Her opponent, another tall girl with long plaits, looked askance at the bank of supporters and grimaced a little. There was a small crowd of family and friends supporting her as well, so plenty of people had an interest in this game. 

Everyone’s eyes widened when Mervyn Rose and Frank Sedgman, strolling by, stopped for a moment to watch the match! And when Mervyn Rose raised his hat to Mrs Carslake, and murmured, “Good morning” before passing on, the girls were beside themselves with curiosity. 

“Mrs Carslake,” ventured Hildreth, “Mr Rose mentioned Jo’s name to us yesterday, as if he knew her. How is that?”

“I’ll tell you later, Hildreth,” said the distracted Mrs Carslake, her eyes proudly on her tall daughter as she went back to serve. 

The match started. The players were well matched and each took a set, the Tremayne girls cheering Jo on as she gamely fought through the strong line shots of her older opponent. In the final set, deuce was reached in several games, and the afternoon lengthened as the young players battled. Many other matches were finished in two quick sets, and spectators from those matches gravitated towards the court where the tall girls were obviously engaged in a dramatic struggle. There was always keen interest in young emerging players. Drive, volley, smash, ace! Deuce, advantage, deuce; the spectators began to cheer each point as the young Amazons battled out the match. And Jo was victorious! 

Everyone clapped heartily as the young players shook hands with each other and then the umpire. Pink with exertion and happiness, Jo came laughing up to the group of friends. 

“Congratulations, Jo!” said Karen, brought out of her usual reserve with excitement for her friend. “You are a dark horse, not telling us that you were entered in this tournament!” Catching Hildreth’s eye, Karen blushed a little, remembering her own term of keeping secrets.* To her own surprise, she had not thought about her unhappiness at going to Tremayne’s for some time; and was even looking forward to going back!

“We were not sure I would be able to come with all of you visiting,” said Jo, “so Mother thought it best to keep it quiet! Phew, I need a drink; the next match comes up in an hour I think.”

Jo retreated to the players’ tent for refreshments while the others found a lunch tent and sat down to eat. 

“You know,” said Karen to the group in general, “that my step-father owns Appledore near Canterbury. Perhaps you might all like to visit us there one half term?” This was a huge step for her; Karen herself had never visited her new step-father’s property, and was embarrassed by his wealth. Appledore was a well-known and famous property.

With her usual quick understanding, Merry spoke up. “That would be such fun Karen; I am sure Lady Templeton would be happy for me to come. Would your mother and step-father really want all of us though?” 

“It was Mother who suggested it,” said Karen, relieved at Merry’s enthusiasm. 

“I think it would be marvelous,” volunteered Hildreth. “Doesn’t your family breed beautiful horses there? Perhaps we might do some riding?” Karen nodded assent, saying, “I have to learn! I’ve never ridden before. Mr Channing… my step-father… says he will choose a pony for me.”

“There’s Mrs Carslake!” interrupted Holly. “Let’s find out why Mervyn Rose knows their family!”

“Mrs Carslake,” she said, as that lady approached their table. “Would you mind if I asked how Mr Mervyn Rose knows you and Jo?”

Merry, Karen, Innes, Hildreth and Corinna looked a little abashed at Holly’s forthright question, although they too wanted to know! But Mrs Carslake was used to Holly by now and was not at all put out by her question. 

“Mr Rose trains at our tennis club when he is in Sydney,” said Mrs Carslake. “So Jo has been playing in tournaments and doing coaching alongside him and some of the fine young local players for a few years. We always go to the social events as well.”

“Isn’t it an odd coincidence that the boy we met, Murray Rose, and Mr Mervyn Rose, share the same surname?” wondered Merry. “And both such great sportsmen. At least, Jo thinks Murray might become famous!”

“Yes,” said Mrs Carslake, “I have thought about that myself, but to my knowledge they are not related at all! Now, quickly everyone, there are two tennis matches to watch this afternoon!”


	15. The New Zealand Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claudia and Georgia play a doubles tennis match at the Manly Seaside Tournament, then Jo plays her second match.

Everyone rushed to the court to watch the doubles match that Claudia and Georgie were entered in. They were playing two sisters, who were tremendously skillful and strong. The former Tremayne’s girls, who had played as a pair for years, displayed their fine understanding of each other’s strengths and game, and quickly showed they were a force to be reckoned with, taking the first set. 

A battle ensued between the experienced two sisters, who were favourites to win the ladies’ doubles, and “the New Zealand girls”, as everyone was calling them, who were surprising everyone with their polished game. Claudia in particular was well known as a tennis player in Dunedin, where she often competed against the University team and other older players, in both doubles and singles matches. She also shared her surname with a well-known former great Australian tennis player so there was not a little interest in her among the crowd, wondering if there was a connection.*  
Claudia and Georgia took the first set! They had surprised the sisters with their clever net play, and executed many a great serve and volley to win several of the games. The Australian sisters took the second set, meaning that a third set had to be played. By this time a crowd had gathered, and the wooden stands were near to capacity to watch this unexpectedly close struggle which was requiring the champion sisters to produce their absolute best game. 

The heat was proving a factor. High Sydney humidity meant that the effect of the warm day, at over 80 degrees Fahrenheit, was unusually magnified. The “New Zealand girls” were used to humidity but not when combined with heat, and it began to tell on their game. Their service was broken in the fifth game, and the Australian girls went on to win. 

But the “New Zealand girls” had made a big impression, and there were reporters anxious to take their photographs and write about their visit to Sydney. And a surprise invitation came as well - there was be a social game the next evening, and mixed doubles teams were to play. Mrs Carslake managed the reporters’ questions adroitly - she did not want her young charges to be inordinately harassed but the girls were photographed for the next day’s paper with their doubles partners. No less than Ken Rosewall and Lewis Hoad were to be their partners!

Then it was Jo’s turn again, in the contest to determine who would win through to the quarter finals of the junior girls’ championship. Jo was up against another 16 year old, who served with great strength, and hit several aces straight down the line. It was no disgrace for Jo to be beaten 6-4, 6-4 and the crowd cheered her efforts as she walked from the court. 

“I’m glad that’s over,” she said unexpectedly to her friends, after changing out of her tennis gear. “It’s so nerve wracking playing in front of a big crowd. Give me swimming any day! You can’t hear people in the pool.”

Back at the house, Merry and Corinna huddled over the Saturday evening paper. The Sydney to Hobart yacht race report was featured. 

“It’s going to be a close finish,” said Merry, “no-one knows who will win yet. And they haven’t heard anything from “Katwinchar”! I wonder why they called it that?”

“Ah, I can answer that question,” replied Jo. “Daddy met the crew at the yacht club while they were getting provisions in Sydney. Do you know they arrived here with only three cans of food left? The boat is named for three people in the family that first owned her: Katherine, Winifred and Charlie!”

“There was a big gale off Maria Island which blew some of the yachts out to sea. It will take them a while to work their way back to Tasmania,” explained Mrs Ballantyne. 

“I suppose yachts are built to withstand storms,” said Diana. 

“Sometimes they don’t,” said Jo soberly. “In January this year, the “Margaret Rintoul” herself sank right here in the harbour during a big storm. She had just come back from being first over the line in last year’s race! And some men drowned when a steamship sank off the coast in the same storm.”

Everyone was shocked at this; the big yacht seemed so sturdy and seaworthy, and for a while they all thought of the yachts struggling down the coast in the strong winds. 

Curiosity, but not concern, satisfied for the moment, Merry and Corinna compared their answers in the crossword to the published results, laughing ruefully over the clues they had not been able to solve. 

“Shall we do this week’s?” said Corinna doubtfully. “I am not sure my brains are up to it.”

“I think we should keep this page of the paper and try it on the plane journey home,” suggested Merry, and with that the paper was carefully folded and stored until such time as they would leave.

They turned their energies instead to one of the large jigsaw puzzles that Mrs Carslake had thoughtfully provided for quiet moments. Everyone spent a little time on the pleasant pastime when they could - and at the moment the puzzle on the table was a vintage dissected map of New South Wales which needed quite a lot of concentration! And as they did the puzzle, the girls learned quite a lot about the geography of the state they were visiting, and its unusual place names. 

“How do you say: Mur-will-um-bah?” pondered Corinna and Hildreth. 

“Not like that,” laughed Jo. “It’s Mer-wool-um-bah! At least they’re not as difficult for me as New Zealand names can be!” And she proceeded to coach her willing friends in the complexities of Australian place names, while they explained to the mystified Jo that WH can sometimes be pronounced F!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Emily Hood Westacott won many tennis tournaments in Australia in the late 1930s.


	16. Preparation for a Concert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A New Year's Party provides an opportunity for the musical talents of Tremayne's to be displayed.

The older girls, and the parents, read, or chatted quietly, talking over the day’s wonderful competition, and the opportunity to come for the tennis champions of the Tremayne’s. But not everyone was thinking about tennis. 

Mrs Carslake called Georgia, Innes and Holly to her side and sat down with them on the comfortable settee. “Girls, on New Year’s Eve we are holding a party at our home, and all of you, and many of our friends will be there. The Venetian Regatta will be held on the harbour; from our garden we will be able to see it! I have asked Merry’s friend, Mrs Niland and her husband.” The girls looked pleased at the prospect of a party. 

“Now, Georgia and Holly, will you sing for us please?” asked Mrs Carslake. “Many of my friends are musical and would love to hear you.” She had heard them both during the pageant, and looked forward to hearing these young singers in a more formal solo performance. She felt not a little interest was felt in these promising young women, who, like Neroli Grantham, might bring great credit by their emerging virtuosity, not only to their school, but to New Zealand as a nation. 

“And Innes, will you play your violin: perhaps you may like to introduce one of your own compositions?” said Mrs Carslake quietly to Innes, who looked nervous but not overwhelmed at the prospect. 

“Innes has been working on a piece inspired by the movement and lights on the harbour, Mrs Carslake,” piped up Holly, to Innes’ horror. 

“I haven’t finished it yet,” she stammered, giving Holly a look which, for the mild Innes, verged on ferocious. 

“Well get a wriggle on,” said Holly bracingly. She knew that this might be a good time to play it for an educated audience, since nerves did not afflict Innes too much once she was playing. Innes nodded; she knew that she could finish the piece in the time available, and it was not difficult to play, thank goodness.

“Are there particular pieces you would like us to sing, Mrs Carslake?” said Georgia to her hostess. 

“You choose your program girls, I have complete faith in you,” was Mrs Carslake’s reply. “Have you been learning anything special that you would like to sing?”

Both girls thought a moment; there were so many lovely songs.  
“Do you know the “Flower Duet” by Delibes?” Georgia asked Holly. “I think it would suit our voices. We could do a duet.” 

“What a lovely idea,” said Mrs Carslake enthusiastically. 

“I have sung the soprano part with my teacher, but am not sure I am good enough to sing with you,” said Holly diffidently. This was very different to the confident and outspoken Holly of her first few months at Tremayne’s!

“Nonsense,” said Georgia, “your voice has been very well trained and you are quite exceptional for someone your age.” Holly looked overcome with such praise.  
Georgia continued: “I like the lovely aria from Dido and Aeneas by Purcell; do you know it? It’s called “When I am laid in Earth”. My mother has a beautiful recording by the English singer Nancy Evans, made when she was only 19. It’s a bit morbid but suits my voice well I think.” 

“That would be a lovely choice, Georgie. Holly, what solo would you like to do?” said Mrs Carslake encouragingly. 

“I like “Down by the Salley Gardens” arranged by Benjamin Britten. Grandmother has a recording by Kathleen Ferrier and taught me to sing it.”

“And it would be lovely to sing one of Innes’ songs, with lyrics by Corinna, which was in the pageant,” suggested Mrs Carslake. 

Mrs Carslake had been taking notes. 

“Oh girls, that looks like a wonderful program! I would have loved our young friend Richard who is a voice coach and accompanist to hear you. He has brought out some wonderful young singers. The Sun Aria award is our big annual competition and one of his students recently won it. I think her name is Joan something-or-other. But Richard went to England this year to study. Miss Sutherland (that’s her name) and her mother also have gone to London. She sang one of the songs you have chosen, Georgia, at her debut: playing the part of Dido!  
“I will call the conservatorium; Mr Goossens there is tremendously helpful; in fact, I will invite him to come to the party! I am sure he would help us to borrow the music for each of these songs - I assume you haven’t brought sheet music with you?” Mrs Carslake hurried to the phone to ring her esteemed friend. She came back looking very cheerful. 

“That’s all set, he will meet us at the Manly hotel tomorrow evening after the tennis with the music you asked for. All the students are on holidays at the moment, so he was pleased with the invitation and chance to meet some new young singers!”

Holly’s father, the very proud Mr Stafford, himself a singer and pianist, who had been unable to attend the performances of the school pageant, had offered to accompany the girls. He was looking forward to hearing and playing for his daughter, who had matured so much in her few months at school, and was also hoping that a very special guest might be able to attend as a surprise for Holly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the great musical impresario and conductor, Richard Bonynge will not mind my reference to him, and his famous wife, the brilliant Australian soprano, Joan Sutherland. Eugene Goossens was the head of the Sydney Conservatorium of Music at this time.


	17. A Quiet Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pauline asks her mother some questions.

Pauline and Lady Templeton sat in the garden watching the lights of passing craft on the water.

“Mother,” said Pauline, “may I ask you about something please?”

“Of course, darling,” her mother replied, a little surprised at Pauline’s grave tone.

“Did you know Merry’s father?” asked Pauline abruptly.

“Yes, both your father and I knew him,” said Lady Templeton. “Frank Arundel was a very fine soldier and gave his life in the war.”

“But did you know him well?” persisted Pauline. “Did you meet him with Merry’s mother, and spend time together?”

“Not very frequently, as they lived in Auckland. Why do you ask, my dear?” replied Lady Templeton. “What has brought on this interest in Merry’s father?”

“Mrs Niland mentioned him while we were at the gallery yesterday. She said he had been in the 28th Battalion. I remember that Father told me a little about that battalion.”

  
“The 28th Battalion, yes, that’s correct. They were part of the New Zealand Expeditionary Force, all volunteers.”

“And all Māori!” said Pauline.

“Yes of course my dear, we have always known that Merry had Māori ancestry.”

“But I didn’t know,” said Pauline, quietly. “And I am not sure Merry knows either.”

“I think Merry does know, but she has never had any reason to consider it unusual or different. Frank’s father was from Cornwall, like Rose’s family, and his mother was a Māori girl. Such marriages are quite common. Frank was very interested in his mother’s heritage and proud to fight with the Māori regiment. Does it make any difference to how you feel about Merry, or her mother?” asked Pauline’s own mother.

“No,” said Pauline slowly. “But I don’t think there are many other girls with Māori families or heritage at school, and it is not something we ever think about. In fact, I wonder why we don’t question it. It does seem a little odd when so many people in New Zealand are Māori. We don’t even learn much about Māori history.”

“Do you think you would always know where girls have come from? I can’t imagine you investigate each other’s lineage!” said Pauline’s mother.

“Oh no, that would be terribly ill-bred,” replied Pauline. “There was a girl this year, in Merry and Hildreth’s class, who always wanted to know who one’s people were. Of course, with a name like ours, or Fan Harrington’s, it would be hard for one’s family not to be known, with Daddy being a surgeon, and Justice Harrington being in the papers so often. But in most cases, I suppose we don’t think about being … well-known or wealthy, and certainly don’t talk about it! I think at Tremayne’s we take people on their merits, not because of who their parents might be.”

“I would like to think so,” replied her mother. “Unfortunately there is quite a big difference between the income of most Māori people and some of those of English descent,” Lady Templeton pointed out. “It can be prohibitive to afford a school like Tremayne’s. You and your friends are very lucky to be able to attend. It is easy to take wealth and privilege for granted. Of course there are scholarships, like Merry’s, and anyone can apply for them. There are very fine schools for Māori girls and boys, though, so their families may prefer a Māori education to a “pakeha” education.”

At Pauline’s lifted brows, she explained, “Pakeha is the Māori term for non- Māori people, like us.” Pauline considered this quietly, turning over in her hands the book that she held. Then a thought occurred to her.

“Does Merry have living relatives then, besides her great-aunts?” asked Pauline. “Might they have wanted her to go to them when she lost her mother?”

“Rosemerryn left a will giving custody of Merry to her great-aunts, whom you know,” said Lady Templeton. “I believe there are some relatives on the North Island, mainly cousins, aunts, and perhaps uncles, although with the war… well, many men were lost. Merry’s father’s parents are no longer living. I am sure Merry will want to visit her relatives one day but presently her home is with us, in the south, at the wish of her mother and great-aunts.”

“Merry seemed to want to know more about her father. She asked Mrs Niland if she had known him well.”

“Merry is welcome to ask me or your father about him if she wishes. She should be very proud of her family and her father. But I think perhaps we will leave her to bring up the question in her own time.”  
The two women, daughter and mother, rose from their chairs, and gazed out into the dark waters of the harbour.

“Now, please don’t let this news disturb you. But if it makes you more interested to find out about our fellow countrymen and women, then that is perhaps a very good thing. Your father has many Māori colleagues and friends at work - ask him to tell you about them. Now, I think it is time we both went to bed, don’t you?” finished Lady Templeton, giving her tall daughter a warm hug.

“Mrs Niland and Merry would like to see each other again before we leave…do you think that’s possible?” said Pauline as they walked inside.

“I believe Big Jo has invited them to the New Year’s Eve party,” replied her mother, “Good night, dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *See “Merry Marches On”


	18. The Manly Seaside Tournament Day 3 - 30 December, 1951

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claudia and Georgia play a very special mixed doubles game.

The radio announcer reading the news predicted a warm day, as the broadcast was listened to by the breakfasting group. 

“Crowds of up to 200, 000 people are expected at Sydney’s beaches today, as the humidity soars, making the predicted 80 degrees Fahrenheit feel far warmer,” said the very English voice.   
“A result is expected in Hobart for the Sydney Hobart Yacht race. The leading yachts are making their way into the Derwent River and will commence their slow and tactical passage up the River to the finish line. “Margaret Rintoul” is in the lead, having entered the river at 8.30 am and is expected to gain line honours, being several miles in advance of the next yacht, “Lass O’Luss”. “Katwinchar”* has not been sighted for two days and fears are held for the safety of the three man crew.”

“Hooray,” cheered Jo, who had walked down the road from her home to breakfast with her friends. “I hoped “Margaret Rintoul” would win.”

“Line honours is not the same as winning the whole race, remember, the handicap has to be taken into account,” cautioned Mrs Ballantyne. 

“I hope the “Katwinchar” is safe,” said Merry doubtfully. The story of the little vessel had captured her imagination.

The social doubles game in which Claudia and Georgia were so unexpectedly to take part was not scheduled to start until 4pm and everyone was hoping it might be a little cooler by then. Since travel to Manly was not required until after lunch, all the girls decided a swim at Red Leaf Pool was in order, and the chattering group headed down to the pool for a welcome cool dip. 

The day grew warmer as the ferry crossed to Manly early that afternoon. The ferry was packed with families and groups of young people heading to the beach. 

“Goodness, I think everyone in Sydney must be going to the beach today!” commented Mrs Ballantyne, as the crowd jostled to disembark at the jetty at Manly.**

An announcement came over the loudspeaker at the tennis courts not long after they arrived. “Ladies and gentlemen, the news has just arrived from Hobart that the first yacht to cross the finishing line in the Sydney to Hobart race was “Margaret Rintoul”.”

“Hurray!” cheered Jo, delighted that her favourite had won. 

Georgie and Claudia were feeling a little uneasy at the prospect of the tennis match to come. Not only had they rarely played mixed doubles, or played against each other in doubles, but they also were playing with two already famous young men! This was not going to be like a match at the university or tennis club, and definitely not like a school match!  
Fortunately, there was a very jolly and relaxed atmosphere at the tennis courts when they arrived. The finals of the championships had been played and trophies presented to the winners. Ken Rosewall, at only 17, had won the open men’s championship! 

Many people had departed immediately afterwards to go to their distant homes in preparation for New Year’s Eve and to avoid the busy Sydney traffic at the end of the day. So it was more of a local crowd that was gathered to enjoy the social matches being played as the conclusion of the tournament, including that including the local champions, Hoad and Rosewall, and the New Zealand girls. 

They were introduced to their partners by the chairman of the tournament: Claudia would partner Mr Rosewall, and Georgia, Mr Hoad. Both girls were two years older than their partners. To Claudia and Georgia’s amusement, the difference in their ages meant that the young men seemed more nervous of them than the reverse, and they set about putting them at ease, much as they might have with younger students at school. Before long they were all chatting freely, and moved onto the court for a hit up prior to commencing their match. 

The girls both served well, and had no fear of the indignity of double faults. Georgia soon felt the effect of Mr Rosewall’s devastating backhand, and dropped a few points. Mr Hoad’s serve was extremely powerful, and caused Claudia not a little anguish, but her height (she was actually two inches taller than Mr Rosewall) meant that she had some advantage in net play.   
At first self-conscious and nervous of making errors with their experienced and famous partners, the girls both played unforced errors. But gradually, with cheers from the crowd and encouragement from the young men, now completely at their ease and enjoying the match, which carried none of the stress of a championship, the two girls got into their stride and began to play more freely, falling into their natural game. 

There was a great shout when Claudia played a passing shot which beat both Georgia and Mr Hoad, and laughter and cheers, when Georgia, lunging desperately, managed to save what looked like a clear winner and returned it to take a point. Since both men were equal in skill, and both girls, it was quite a balanced game, with no advantage on either side. Thus the score in each set was very close, and each pair began to develop a few strategies which suited their game. The final set of three was a cliffhanger, with no service breaks, and a long last game, but finally it was the day’s champion, Mr Rosewall, and Claudia, who triumphed. Everyone applauded the four attractive young people warmly.

“I don’t care if I never play another tennis match,” laughed Georgie, shaking hands with the two young men and Claudia. “That was the most exciting match. Thank you!” 

“Congratulations, all of you,” said the chairman graciously. “That was a most entertaining way to finish the tournament. Ken, thank you for backing up after the championship!”

Ken Rosewall smiled politely. His training sessions could go for hours; a social game was no hardship to him. 

“We are all going over to the hotel for dinner,” announced Mrs Carslake. “You are welcome to join us?” she gestured to the two young men. Both politely declined; shaking hands all round, the young men took their leave. 

Conveniently, Mr Goossens had agreed to meet them at the hotel in Manly. Mrs Carslake, Holly, Innes and Georgia sat with him during the evening to go through the music for the party, and that had prolonged their stay.

The rest of the party enjoyed the leisurely meal, with the reflection of the sunset in the west creating intensely coloured gold and red clouds in the east over the water. What a beautiful place; crowds of people strolled along the promenade.

And great news had come regarding the missing yacht: the crew of “Katwinchar” had docked her in a coastal seaside town north of Hobart for repairs. Although they had to withdraw from the race, they were safe and sound, ready to start their new lives in Tasmania.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope Mr Ken Rosewall, and the families of Ken Rosewall and Lew Hoad will not object to this fictitious tennis match. Mr Rosewall is one of the most revered living figures from that great age of Australian tennis. Mr Hoad sadly left us in 1994, at the early age of 60.
> 
> * "Katwinchar" has an incredible later history. Located in about 2016 by a yachting enthusiast, as a derelict wreck in the Hunter Valley in New South Wales, she was painstakingly restored, then competed in the 2019 Sydney-Hobart yacht race, winning the Grand Veterans class in 4 days 6 hours 27 minutes 47 seconds. This time was only 4 hours slower than the Margaret Rintoul’s record breaking time in 1951, demonstrating the differences in technology that were applied in the restored version of the yacht. Nowadays, the winning yachts complete the race in just over two days.
> 
> ** And indeed, the following day’s paper would report that over 200000 people were on Sydney’s beaches that day.


	19. A Party and Venetian Regatta - 31st December, 1951

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A beautiful evening in Sydney for New Year's Eve

Everyone rested in the morning of New Year’s Eve. It had been a late night returning from dinner after the tennis. Mr Stafford visited in the morning to rehearse with the singers, while the others washed their hair and enjoyed the quiet of the garden. 

The evening of the party finally came, everyone produced best frocks, and there was considerable excitement on the walk along the leafy street to the entrance to Jo’s home. The girls were introduced to so many people that it was hard to remember names, but they were all pleased to meet Murray Rose again, and his parents, and Merry was thrilled to see Mrs Niland, with her husband.   
There was a very special surprise for Holly when her father’s guest arrived. 

“Grandmother!” said Holly, as the stately elderly lady walked through the door, on her son’s arm. She was dressed elegantly in mauve, with upswept iron gray hair. Holly had not seen her since coming away to school. Grandmother was deeply gratified by Holly’s obvious pleasure in her company. Their relationship had been difficult in the last year that Holly was at her home.

It was a bit like a school party, really, with all the girls helping to hand around canapés and then singing, and Innes playing her violin. 

When tall Georgia stood straight as a sword to sing “Dido’s Lament - When I am laid in Earth”, Merry thought she looked like a tragic young queen, commanding her countrymen to remember her.   
Of course, the sad words recalled her own mother to mind. Nor was she the only one for whom it was as if the brilliant young writer, mother and friend was present at that moment. Mrs Niland, Pauline, Lady Templeton, and the astute Hildreth, all looked to Merry, and were relieved to see her composed, as the words “Remember me”, sung with thrilling emphasis in Georgie’s powerful contralto voice, echoed through the big room. There was a little silence as the song ended; then applause for many minutes. 

“To think that Purcell wrote that music over 300 years ago, and it still speaks to us so deeply,” murmured Mrs Niland to Merry. “Did you know that the librettist also wrote “While Shepherds watched their Flocks”? His name was Tate.” 

Merry gratefully acknowledged this slight change of subject and was able to talk about other things for a few moments while Holly took the stage.  
Holly’s song choice of the setting of Yeat’s poem perfectly suited her soprano voice, and quite in accord with her accompanist, she performed the song at a slow tempo, caressing the lovely lilting tune. Her grandmother unobtrusively dabbed at her eyes with a tiny lace handkerchief; life with Holly at home had not been easy, but her efforts were paid a thousand fold tonight. 

Innes then stood for her violin solo, and charmed the audience with her tone and raptured expression as she played. The singing of one of Innes’ songs from the pageant was introduced by Claudia, at Mrs Carslake’s request, and Claudia described the pageant and its creation, introducing Merry and Corinna and Innes as author, poet and composer. The song was warmly applauded and Innes blushed with pleasure at the compliments she received as composer. 

The singers then combined for the charming Flower Duet, with its glorious harmonies, and smiled happily as they sang it. Would the concert platform one day hold these two tall girls, performing again together? There were many in the audience who hoped so. All the Tremayne’s party exchanged proud glances; to think that their school friends were so admired!

After the entertainment finished, Holly, Georgia and Innes were all three deep in talk with Mrs Carslake’s friend, Mr Goossens, who was also known to Holly’s grandmother. The shaping of a musical career could be long and difficult; it was so helpful to speak to someone who knew that world so well. 

Merry had a very happy hour chatting to Mrs Niland and her husband. Both of them had known Merry’s mother well. They reminisced cheerfully about journalist days, travels in New Zealand together, and funny events from the world of the newspaper. 

“Do you remember your wonderful parties in the flat, Merry?” said Mrs Niland. “You and your mother used to cook up a feast and you were marvelous at helping to serve and clean up after all the untidy guests!”

“Yes,” said Merry, “I loved it when we had visitors and Mother would let me stay up late. Her friends were always so interesting to talk to. I would like to be a writer one day too. Do you think I could?”

“Of course!” said Mrs Niland. “You saw your mother working, though, and you know what a busy life it is. She wrote every day, and that is probably the best advice I can give you.”

“Oh I do that already,” said Merry, “with letters and my diary.”

“I saw your originality piece in the school magazine; Mrs Carslake showed me. It was very fine,” said Mr Niland earnestly. “You have quite a gift for dialogue, Merry, so try to develop that, perhaps in a play or some short stories. Have you read any of the stories of Katherine Mansfield?” 

Merry was familiar with this famous New Zealand writer, and they discussed her stories for some time, with Corinna joining in after a while, still glowing from her introduction as the poet behind the songs in the pageant. 

Later, everyone gravitated out to the wide terrace and lawn, to welcome in the New Year. A Venetian regatta, so beloved of Sydney-siders, was taking place on the harbour. Gaily lighted boats travelled up and down harbour, with music and revelers enjoying themselves on board. The perfect still evening was the ideal backdrop to the merrymaking, as everyone cheered in 1952 and sang Auld Lang Syne. All in all it was the best ever evening in Sydney.


	20. A new turn of events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad news reaches the party from Tremayne's and a positive response is suggested.

With the excitement of the tennis and party behind them, the final days of the wonderful holiday were passing rapidly. There were many swims down at the pool, a trip to the Blue Mountains to see the Three Sisters rock formation, and to Corinna’s satisfaction, a picnic at Botany Bay. 

Thus, everyone was taken by surprise one morning, when a grave faced Mrs Carslake, accompanied by a sober Jo, came down at breakfast time to the house where the Tremayne’s party were staying.   
Without preamble, Mrs Carslake told them bad news. 

“Girls, we have had a phone call this morning from Dunedin. There is an outbreak of polio, and one of your friends is very ill. It is Beth Strickland,” she said sorrowfully. 

Corinna and Merry started to cry, and Hildreth, who hoped to become a doctor, looked stricken, realizing immediately the possible import of this illness. Beth had been one of them for many years, since she had started as a junior boarder with Hildreth and some of the others when they were tiny. Beth was like a sister. Claudia, who would be starting her medical studies that year, walked out of the room onto the terrace, hands clenched in her pockets, obviously deeply moved.

“Oh Jo,” said Lady Templeton, “this is dreadful news. Do you know what treatment she has received and who is looking after her?” Of course, Pauline’s surgeon father had seen many such patients already during the terrible epidemics that had swept both southern nations, as well as many other countries. 

“Everything possible is being done for her,” replied Big Jo Carslake, “but she is very ill.”

“Will she get better?” whispered Merry.

“Merry dear, we can’t know for some time if she will recover, and if she does, how she may be affected. Some children survive with no bad effects, but for others…”

They had all seen children with calipers and heard of the dreaded iron lung treatments, and of the recoveries aided by the treatments of the Australian nurse, Sister Kenny. Even the youngest girls remembered that for several months in 1948 schools had been closed throughout New Zealand, and that all their lessons had been by correspondence. 

“All we can do is pray for Beth’s recovery, and send her our very best wishes” said Grace Channing shyly. “Why don’t you all write to her? If she can have your letters read to her that may cheer her up immensely.”

Merry lifted a tear-stained face. “Do you think that might help?” she said. 

“Of course! There is nothing like hearing from your friends when you are ill. But there is something else you might like to do as well, girls,” said Joanna Carslake, senior. “I am on the board of the Drummond Far West Children’s home. There are some country children there, near Manly beach, recovering from polio. We might be able to visit them if you like. Beth can’t have visitors just yet, but when she can I know you will like to see her. I am sure she would love the idea that you visit other children, even if you can’t see her just yet.”

Some of the girls dreaded the visit, not knowing what to expect, but a few rapid telephone calls confirmed that the visit was possible. All of them dutifully accompanied Mrs Carslake that afternoon on the now familiar excursion on the ferry across the harbour, and then to the large building owned by the Far West foundation, established by Mr Drummond. 

One little girl with big dark eyes and shoulder length brown hair caught Hildreth’s eye. 

“Hello,” said Hildreth, “what’s your name?”

“Robynne. Will you come and play with me, please?” said the little tot. Her left leg was encased in a heavy leather and iron caliper, and taking Hildreth’s hand she limped quite confidently across the room to the play table, where some attractive puzzles were laid out for the children to play with. 

“Robynne is from Canberra, and has been in the home since she was two years old. She is now six,” explained the matron to Hildreth’s mother. “Her parents can’t afford to visit her often or live nearby.   
Robynne doesn’t really understand that she has a mother and father. They do visit when they can, but she doesn’t really know who they are. We hope that she can learn that she really does have a family.”*

Each of the other girls, and the parents who had gone along, attached themselves to one of the children, and the afternoon passed very pleasantly. The children were taken to the beach each morning for swims, and the girls promised to come again and go with them if time permitted.

“Would you like to take part in the afternoon musical activity?” said the Matron. “This activity brings pleasure to the children and nurses, but also helps to exercise their limbs.”**

“Of course,” said Georgia on everyone’s behalf. She gestured to the piano in the corner. “Shall I play?”

“Oh please,” said the Matron, “at the moment none of our staff is able to play; so we are using records or just singing!”

Georgia sat down to the piano, and Holly led the others singing “This old man” with gusto, the children playing their instruments and marching, each holding the hand of one of their visitors. Everyone sang along to the chorus “Knick knack paddy whack, give a dog a bone, this old man came rolling home.” One little boy banged a drum with his weak right arm, and others marched around on their pitifully withered legs, unconscious of the recuperative effect of the movement. 

“Shall we have an orchestra?” said Diana. “Do you all have instruments?” She looked inquiringly at the Matron.

Matron shook her head. “We have recently had a donation which will help us establish a pottery section, so the children can work with clay. But at present we only have a very few instruments, so music is mostly singing and marching.”

“Well that doesn’t matter!” said Diana cheerfully. “Where is the kitchen?” And with that, a collection of saucepan lids, wooden spoons, teaspoons and metal cups were collected, and an impromptu rag-tag orchestra was devised, with riotous results. Every nursery rhyme in Georgie’s repertoire was exhausted by the end of the session.

“Thank you girls, the children will remember this day for a long time,” smiled the Matron as the afternoon drew to a close, and the children tucked into their afternoon tea. 

On the way out, the girls were given the opportunity to observe the ward where some children were isolated in iron lungs, through the glass window in the double doors. This tried the nerve of the even the strongest of them, and many eyes were wet on the journey home on the ferry. The patient little faces emerging from the great metal cylinders were heart breaking.

“I wonder if Beth will need to be in one of those things,” said Georgia soberly to Claudia. “Doesn’t it make you mad to think that even now, in 1951, we still don’t have a vaccine for this awful disease?”

“Yes,” said Claudia, “it makes me think I would like to learn about infectious diseases and help in that kind of work, if it could prevent little kids like that having to go through what they are experiencing. I suppose it would mean years of study. Even just cleaning test tubes would make one feel like one had done something useful.”

“Don’t you think we could do something about providing some more instruments for them?” said Diana. “I feel a bit embarrassed to think we put so much effort into raising money for a swimming pool at school while there are children like this needing help. If we can raise money for our own swimming pool, surely we can run to some triangles, tambourines, recorders and drums? I remember packing things for the soldiers during the war… gosh, I must have been about 8 then.” And the senior girls put their heads together with Mrs Carslake to discuss what might be possible. 

It was with a heavy heart that night that each went to bed. But the morning brought better news; Beth could be treated with muscle therapy and heat, and might not need more drastic intervention. 

“I’ve been in touch with Miss Lincoln,” said Pauline’s mother. “She is a good friend of Minister Mabel Howard, the Member of Parliament and Cabinet Minister. Miss Howard recommended that Beth be transferred to Wanganui Hospital. The methods of Sister Elizabeth Kenny of Australia are overseen there by Sister Dryden, and Sister Kenny’s nephew, Bob Bell. Beth is already receiving the very best of care, and they are hopeful of a recovery.”

“So many wonderful women are involved in this effort, girls. Take inspiration from that at this terrible time,” finished Lady Templeton quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Robynne Clifton, a polio survivor, told her story to the Australian Broadcasting Commission in 2018. This story respectfully mentions Robynne to highlight the tragedy of separation from family that happened to many children during these epidemics. 
> 
> https://www.abc.net.au/news/2018-12-24/polios-forgotten-survivors/10635098 
> 
> ** https://library.csustan.edu/sites/default/files/files/pdf/shq/shq-v2-n1.pdf (Page 3 contains an account of music therapy utilized at the Tiny Tim Guild in London, England, during the late 1920s.)
> 
> A serious polio epidemic occurred in New Zealand in 1952, affecting many young people between 15 and 24, as well as children. Beth’s is an early case. The source of infection, transmission through faecal matter, even at this time was not well understood, but Auckland closed its beaches, which probably saved many lives. Let’s hope Tremayne’s was not affected by the 1952 epidemic.


	21. Last days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth's wish for her friends is fulfilled.

The Australian visit seemed long now. As the next week went by, with visits to locations such as the Lookout Point to the south, the girls variously felt discomfited by their enjoyment, and struggled to find enthusiasm for long excursions. There was increasing heat and humidity too, and the adults murmured quietly among themselves about the bushfire threat that the newspapers reported was looming.*

“I almost wish we were going home soon,” sighed Innes. 

“Yes,” said Hildreth, “with Beth sick it seems strange to be going around enjoying ourselves.”

Everyone began to think of how many days it would be before they would return to Dunedin, and would have a chance to see the other members of their families. 

The parents observed with concern the growing lassitude and anxiety of the girls, and after consultation with the airlines, decided to bring forward the date of return. Mrs Carslake was very understanding, although Jo was clearly upset by the premature termination of the visit of her friends. Karen and her mother decided to stay longer. The friendship between Karen and Jo had grown, and of course their mothers were old friends. So this added some comfort for Jo to the otherwise depressing loss of her companions. 

Meanwhile, Sydney was excitedly preparing for the visit of the Princess Elizabeth and her consort Prince Philip later in the year, and photos appeared in the paper of the stateroom they would occupy on the yacht Britannia, and stories about the preparations for grand parades and functions. A New Zealand visit was also planned; would they come to Dunedin?

But even this did not inspire the girls to excitement. It was Merry whose spirits returned to normal more quickly than those of the others - no stranger to grief, her unshakeable confidence in Beth’s recovery made the others feel more hopeful. Merry had, after all, lost both parents, and knew what it was to have no hope. To have hope was quite different, and, she felt, required action and response. She wrote to Beth every day, enclosing funny stories that she found in the newspaper and cutting out cartoons that took her fancy to enclose. 

“Beth loves a joke,” she explained quietly to Mrs Carslake when she asked what Merry was doing with scissors and newspaper. Claudia watched without comment; her choice to give Merry the bene servavit, the small gold bar presented by the outgoing head girl to her chosen Middle School successor, at the end of last term, was being daily justified. 

One day the postman brought a letter from Beth, written in her mother’s hand but dictated by Beth. 

“Dear Merry, and everyone,” it read, “Isn’t this a nuisance? I go from swimming one day to bed-ridden the next. Never mind, it is giving me plenty of time to think up things to do at school this year.” Everyone laughed; Beth had something of a reputation for imaginative extra-curricular activities. The letter went on: “Have you been to the zoo yet? I would love to hear about the giraffes and tigers. I can’t wait to see you when you get back, and I can go home. Love to everyone, Beth.”

This brave and cheery missive gladdened the hearts of her friends. And of course, it prompted a request for the zoo visit, which had been forgotten about in the anxiety over Beth’s illness. 

Thus it was that on a sunny day, the girls and the parents in attendance travelled by ferry from Circular Quay to Taronga Park Zoo.** The grand arched white entrance where tickets were purchased led to a broad pathway, which wound up the hill to the animal enclosures. It was very pleasant in the cool of the morning, strolling up the path and gradually attaining the magnificent views of the harbour that the zoo’s position afforded. 

The girls were enchanted by the many baby animals, including a young giraffe, and were able to hold some of the little animals.

“Its fur is so soft and thick,” exclaimed Corinna, holding a baby wombat, and Merry found her baby wallaby, all legs and tail, to be a bit of a handful. Exotic animals such as lions, tigers, polar bears and hippopotami intrigued them all greatly, although the familiar seals did not attract as much interest. The giraffes, in their high enclosure with views all the way to the Heads, were fascinating, and the several elephants also were interesting to view. 

“Would you like to have a ride on the elephants, girls?” asked Mrs Carslake, as they sat in the shade of trees to eat their picnic lunch of sandwiches and cake and fruit. “I believe they are very well treated and enjoy their daily outings.” There was considerable enthusiasm at the idea; the girls had seen the great animals patrolling the zoo with eager children on their backs, and the idea was very appealing.

“I usually don’t like to see them in circuses, being confined and made to do silly things, but here they are able to have a stroll and time out of their enclosures,” she added, as she and Lady Templeton strolled along after the girls. 

A sign pointed to the elephant ride, and they all walked over to the high stands from which the elephants were mounted. “They look like two halves of a railway bridge,” laughed Hildreth.  
Up climbed the girls; they were arranged either side of the wooden seats that were strapped to the back of the elephant. The elephant keeper leapt onto the elephant’s neck, and away they went, lurching to the stride of the great animal. 

“Smile, everyone,” called Jo’s mother, snapping a shot of them with her camera. The photo would be a great memento and gift for Beth, who was constantly in all their thoughts.   
Much refreshed, wind-blown and a little sunburned in some cases, the party returned home on the ferry, to find that Mr Carslake and Jo’s tall brothers, Archie and Derek, had returned from Melbourne, now that the cricket was over, and had prepared a wonderful outdoor barbeque for them all. There was a much happier feeling this evening; Beth’s wish had been fulfilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Serious bushfires occurred in NSW and Victoria in late January of 1952.
> 
> ** https://www.nfsa.gov.au/tags/taronga-zoo - two videos at this link show the zoo as it would have been at the time of the girls’ visit, including the elephant ride.


	22. A new year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in New Zealand, there are partings and plans.

The great flying boat sat placidly on the barely ruffled surface of the harbour at Rose Bay. Luggage had been handed in, and seat allocations obtained. 

It was with much less excitement that the group faced their departure, than they had their arrival. Regret at the early date of leaving had set in for some, and the continuing anxiety about Beth’s health pervaded the atmosphere at all times. 

Merry and the Templetons were to return to Roselands, their home in Christchurch; the Ballantynes back to their property in the Canterbury region; Corinna and her father home to Wellington, and Innes and her mother to their family home. Georgia and Claudia were preparing to enter University, and were doing so with increased strength of purpose. Holly was to spend the rest of the holidays with her parents, and grandmother, who was making the journey home with them. The usual practice of girls visiting between their homes was, for the moment, not taking place; they had all had a long time in each other’s company, and now brothers and sisters, animals, and a period of quiet home reflection beckoned. Hildreth knew that Esmé would be keen to meet before they all returned to school, but she would be in England for a few weeks more.

Lady Templeton had spoken to Pauline at length during the last few evenings about The Māori Women’s Welfare League or Te Rōpū Wāhine Māori Toko I te Ora , a recently established New Zealand welfare organisation focusing on Māori women and children, which had held its first conference in Wellington in September 1951. As a prominent “pakeha” she had been invited to the conference, and had met many of its most important figures. 

As she explained, part of the League's official aims was "To promote fellowship and understanding between Māori and European women." Pauline and her mother discussed the possibility of Tremayne’s somehow being involved in achieving that “fellowship and understanding”. Perhaps there were Maori girls’ schools in Dunedin that might like to have contact with Tremayne’s? Pauline had much to think about, and her outlook broadened considerably, as an outcome of the chance words spoken by Mrs Niland at the art gallery. 

Merry’s long conversation at the New Year’s Eve party with Mrs Niland had given her plenty to think about. Mrs Niland had told of travels on the North Island with her mother, before Merry was born, and had spoken of their days in Auckland as young reporters. It all sounded so exciting and independent. 

“I had always thought that the South Island would be enough for me, but perhaps I might explore the North Island one day,” Merry confided to Hildreth. “I already know Auckland a bit. Perhaps I could see Nelson first, where Aunt Barbara and Susan live, but it would be interesting to see the places north and maybe even get all the way to Cape Reinga!”

“Like John O’Groats or Land’s End!” laughed Hildreth. “You can always start your travels at Wellington in Corinna’s place. Perhaps we can all make an expedition when we leave school!”

Overhearing this last, Mrs Ballantyne laughed. “You girls are planning well ahead! There’s a few years at school to come first. But sometime we have to visit Auckland for business; perhaps you might like to both come with us, girls, and we can make a few excursions into the North Island. And when you do leave school, well, you are sure to want to make a trip to England as well!”

“Oh yes,” sighed Merry, “I would so love to see Cornwall!”

“Wouldn’t we all?” agreed Hildreth. Everyone’s imagination was always captured by the story of Mary Tremayne who had founded their school, and the names of the houses, using Cornish place names, were daily reminders of that faraway place. 

“I think I might have some distant family, on my father’s side, up on the North Island, near Auckland,” said Merry vaguely, returning to her earlier theme. “I remember Mother talking about them once; it might be nice to make contact with them somehow. I will have to write to Aunt Barbara; she would know.” With this surprising information, Hildreth was curious, but had to be content, as Merry said no more. 

The flight back to Wellington was considerably quicker, and rather bumpier, than the flight to Australia, aided by strong trade winds from the west. As Jo had described, it was thrilling to see the green hills and mountains as they crossed the coast, and to know they were close to home. Everyone had laughed a little nervously at the jolting of the plane (“turbulence, a bit like a boat going over waves on the ocean”, the hostess called it); it was a great relief when they landed and disembarked. Thankfully, no-one had been airsick!

Those who wished to break their journey were invited to Corinna’s house in Wellington for a night or two before making the long journey down to Canterbury, Christchurch or Dunedin. Georgia and her mother went to their home, also in Wellington, with Claudia as guest. 

Georgia and Claudia, Pauline and Diana all hugged each other as they said goodbye, in the garden of the Goldsburgh’s home.

“This is a strange farewell,” said Pauline. “You two will come to visit the school as distinguished and revered Old Girls, but we won’t ever be together as we used to be.”

“There is a sense of finality, I suppose,” said Claudia. “But as one era ends, another begins! You want us to go on to University, don’t you? And we want to go!” 

“Of course,” agreed Diana, “but there will be new friends and interests for you. School may seem very small once you get to the University.”

“Perhaps just a bigger version, in which we will be very small fish!” laughed Georgia. And, still laughing, she and Claudia climbed into the car and waved goodbye. They had no wish to prolong and deepen the sense of loss they both understood the two younger girls to be feeling.

This parting was particularly poignant for Diana and Pauline. Although they would all meet again as friends many times, their friendship would be shaped in new ways. The holiday in Australia had somehow prolonged the sense of unity that school had provided for many years, and now its ties were to be severed by distance and, for Claudia and Georgia, a whole new world at University. 

Hildreth was slightly shocked when she noticed tears in her big sister’s eyes, as the car carrying Georgie and Claudia drove away from the Goldsburgh’s house.

“Come away, girls,” said Lady Templeton, who had watched this little scene with understanding. “I think it’s time for dinner, and the Mr Goldsburgh has promised that you can all see his pottery studio afterwards. He has some new pieces just out of the kiln.” 

This kind offer by one of the country’s leading ceramic artists was gratefully received, and helped to relieve the moment of sadness. Pauline and Diana both unconsciously straightened their shoulders as they turned away from watching the car disappear down the road; the leadership of the school now rested on them. 

There was the swimming pool to look forward to; construction would be starting, so that the pool might be ready in time for the spring and summer terms; fundraising for the Drummond Children’s Home, and Pauline was determined to talk to Miss Lincoln about the Māori Women’s Welfare League and what might be done at Tremayne’s to promote its aims. But first a few chats with her father and perhaps some meetings with his colleagues might be a good idea. Pauline never rushed into anything unprepared. 

Merry, Corinna, Holly, Hildreth and Innes, unperturbed as yet by changes such as the older girls appreciated, sat together in the evening, enjoying the vivid sunset. There had been more good reports of Beth’s progress waiting for them; more letters, some written by Beth herself, had been waiting for Corinna at home. 

“I wonder if there will be more new girls this year?” said Merry. “Just think, Holly and Innes, you, Karen and Jo, and I, were not even at Tremayne’s this time last year.”

“Gosh, that’s true!” said Hildreth. “And now, we can’t imagine the place without you all.”

And with that happy feeling of belonging, they all watched the sun set, over in the west towards that far country they had all come to love so well.

**Author's Note:**

> * See “Merry Marches On” by Clare Mallory


End file.
